Nightmares of the Past
by PickleInACup
Summary: At what he does, he is the best, but how did Jack become so frightening? A Jack origin story told like never before. Please R
1. Chapter 1

Nightmares of the Past

Chapter 1: My Name is Jack...

Disclaimer: I'm back, and I still do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas. Why? WHY? WHHHYYY? (Cries shamefully). Okay, I'm over it. On with the fic!

The year was 1902. Halloween town looked significantly different from the Halloween town we all have come to know and love. The same cobblestone streets curved and coiled throughout the town, leading to Town Hall and the dragon fountain in Town Square. The soil was still barren, the skies still gloomy and grey, but cockeyed skyscrapers and looming duplexes had not been built yet. Small, spooky fourteenth to eighteenth century houses stood in their place.

Just outside the cemetery where Skellington manor would stand in a hundred years time, was a stone castle. It's highest tower among the several high towers allowed one to see the whole town. The huge barred gothic windows gave off the illusion they were eyes glaring down at Halloween. Withering vines engulfed the east and west walls. The front steps where a hundred feet high, leading to a massive stone skull with a cast-iron doorway imbedded in its jowls. This menacing monstrosity of a home belonged to the pumpkin king and was known to the citizens as Castle Skellington.

Sitting on the top step, with his knees to his chest, was a handsome young skeleton, fourteen years of age. His name was Jack Skellington, son of Zephaniah Skellington the 3rd and heir to the pumpkin throne. Everyone expected great things from Jack in the near future. Already he equaled ol' Zephaniah's nightmare rank (of whom had been scaring long past his prime for centuries). Jack was quick, energetic, passionate and could let out some of the most gruesome screams the citizens had heard in years. Even still, he was just a rooky and had much to learn. His clean, white bones had yet to harden into full maturity. He kept his mane of white, cobweb-like hair braided back, letting it fall to shoulder length. Although tall for his age (and growing into a taller size every other week), Jack only stood maybe five-foot eight, a foot and an inch shorter than his father. In truth, unless he was practicing, Jack was just a skinny little kid, hardly spooky at all.

He rested his chin in his boney palms as he observed the construction of yet another addition to the town. This monument to horror would be a giant black cat, although the head was far from finished quite yet. Jack sighed. Every time another monument went up, several homes were knocked down to make room, forcing many ghouls to move. Did Zephaniah see what he was disturbing? No, he was much too busy in his own little world.

It was kept under raps from the rest of the town, but Castle Skellington had fallen apart from the inside. Jack's mother, Merriam, had walked out on him and Zephaniah three years ago and everything had gone downhill since. Left a widower, Zephaniah drowned his rejection in wine and liquor. This was not a new occurrence to Jack. His father had been a raging alcoholic as far back as he could remember. He couldn't recall a time of day ol' Zeph didn't have a half empty goblet in hand. Fully stocked liquor cabinets sat in every room of the castle, with the exception of Jack's bedroom and the library. Jack never admitted it aloud, but it was his drinking that drove his mother away, and the more the young skeleton thought about it, the more he hated his old man for it.

The real problem was, Zephaniah had become unstable and violent to the point of sheer lunacy these past couple of years. He staggered through the halls, mumbling incoherently to himself at all hours. He never went outside anymore. Only around Halloween did anyone see him. He fired all his servants, aside from a maid every now and then, but they usually quit after a month of dealing with him. Zephaniah no longer ate, only drank, and occasionally smoked a cigar. Jack was forced to go hungry the bulk of the time as well.

Zephaniah had failed to address Halloween matters as of late, concentrating only on his paintings and blueprints for the town's reconstruction. Although a drunkard, Zephaniah was a brilliant artist and a master architect and strived to reform the current condition of Halloween town into a mass of terrifying eyesores. He dared anyone to keep him from his work.

Jack made sure to stay quiet and discrete in the castle, lest he angered Zephaniah. It was difficult. The slightest, insignificant things would send the old skeleton off on a tantrum. He would start yelling, shouting, and breaking furniture or whatever else was in his path. Several times that week alone, Jack had said or did the wrong thing, and was severely beaten for it. His shoulder was still busted and ached accordingly.

The young skeleton stayed nervous all the time. His only salvation was the library, where he would sit and read for hours- poetry, plays, novels, dogmas, biographies, anything he could get a hold of. His favorite author was none other than Poe. He read all of Poe's works and memorized every line. He would sometimes sketch too, but his drawings paled in comparison to Zephaniah's incredible murals. Reading kept his mind off Merriam, whom Jack missed terribly.

His mother was a beautiful creature. She was a skeleton with youthful white bones, an angelic skull, and lovely white hair. Zephaniah had either sold, or thrown away most of her things, but Jack hid away two of her possessions in his chamber. One was her favorite dress, an extravagant black and grey Elizabethan gown, and an onyx bat head brooch. It was all Jack had left of her. She left without warning him, or saying goodbye.

The iron doorway creaked as it opened. Startled, Jack looked back over his shoulder to find the maid exiting. His expression brightened the moment he saw her face. Mrs. Frankenstein, or Elsa, was Jack's first real crush. He loved to follow her around the castle all day while she cleaned. He often caught himself staring at her while she washed dishes, swaying her hips. Everything about her enchanted him from her lovely green skin to her glossy, black eyes. She was a big woman, six-feet tall and voluptuous. She was poor and dressed in rags with a tattered apron, but this never seemed to take away from her looks. Nothing could hide tits as large and round as hers

More importantly, Elsa was always a sweet person. She treated Jack as if he was her own. She hugged him, sang songs with him, and brought him sweets every morning. Merriam never used to bake for him. She bought him anything and everything in the world, but never took the time to bake for him. Jack never said a word to anyone, but he was wild about Elsa. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Frankenstein. Done with laundry so soon?"

Elsa took a seat next to him. "I'm sorry, Jack." She looked down, her black, curly hair fell over her face. "I didn't get a chance to do laundry. Your father beckoned me to tidy his room earlier and I...never got around to it" Her lovely black lips formed a frown, pulling the stitches on her face down with it. "You still have clean shirts, dear." She assured him.

"No problem..." Jack studied her face- her lovely round face that he had grown so attached to this past month. She looked so troubled. "Mrs. Frankenstein, are you alright?"

She paused to fidget with the hem of her apron. "I'm going home, dear, I'm taking my leave." She informed him sadly, then gave him a small kiss on the forehead goodbye.

Jack's deceased heart broke in half as she stood and walked down the steps. "Wait!" He cried, running after her. "You can't go, you just started working here. What if I swept? You can take a break out here. Zeph doesn't have to know."

Elsa placed a sympathetic hand over Jack's. "Dear, that isn't the problem. I'm sorry, but I have to quit. Things are just not working out here."

Jack was crushed. Mrs. Frankenstein was leaving him too? She was almost as beautiful as Merriam, but twice as affectionate. It was bad enough she was already married, but now she was abandoning him and leaving him to face his father all by himself. He loved her; couldn't she see that? How could she do this to him? Jack forced back a tear and gave her a big hug, burying his head in her bosom.

"Don't fret, dear, it'll be alright." She assured the boy, patting him on the back. "Be good for me."

Jack released his embrace and nodded in agreement. "I will. So long Mrs. Frankenstein."

"So long..."

Two seconds after she walked away, Jack felt empty and alone. His heart sank below the horizon with the jack-o-lantern sun. Suddenly, the doors burst open with a loud _**clang**_, snapping Jack back into reality.

Zephaniah poked his head outside. He shielded his eye sockets from the sun with his puffy orange and black pinstriped sleeve. "John? What are you doing out here? Come hither!"

Although it made him cringe when anyone addressed him as 'John', Jack ran to his side immediately. "Sorry, I was saying goodbye to Mrs. Frankenstein." He explained, keeping his eye sockets to his feet.

"Oh, well hurry inside now, I wish to show you something." Zephaniah slammed the door shut behind them. He held his head in agony; the sound was too much for his aching head. "Oh...That's better." He sighed with relief as they entered the nice, dim vestibule. He placed his hand on Jack's shoulder (the busted one). It took all of Jack's strength not to groan. "Come with me to my study, John, I'm very excited..."

Jack looked his father over. His movements were clumsy so he must have been drinking. The pungent smell on his breath confirmed this. Zephaniah wore a silly, almost triumphant skeleton grin on his face that made Jack's nonexistent stomach churn. "Dad...why did Mrs. Frankenstein quit all of a sudden?" He was forced to ask, although the true answer would have made him wretch.

"She decided her husband needed her at home." He lied right through his teeth. "No worries, John, service is not hard to find, despite what they say. She was bit frigid for my liking anyhow."

Jack jerked his shoulder free. He couldn't stand his father's touch at the moment. How could he do such a thing to Elsa? How could he soil the integrity of such a beautiful corpse? _His_ beautiful corpse (well, technically Mr. Frankenstein's, but that's just splitting hairs).

"Are you felling well?" Zephaniah asked, studying Jack's disgusted expression. "You look terribly ill."

"I'm fine." Jack said with a sigh. It was no use. The damage had been done and Elsa had left. This wasn't the first time this has happened while ol' Zeph was in charge and it wouldn't be the last.

"If you say so" Zephaniah brushed his hand against Jack's forehead and then his hair. "You really need a trim, John. Long hair went out of style nearly a hundred years ago."

"But I like it long." Jack protested. He would protest a trim to the bitter end. He inherited his long, white hair from Merriam and it was one of the very few reminders he had of her. That's the only reason Zeph hated the length and Jack new it.

"Must you dress like a pauper as well?" He asked with an irritated sigh. "You're a prince. Why do you insist on looking like a...a ragamuffin?"

Jack looked down at his clothes. He didn't see anything wrong with them. Zephaniah dressed like the royalty of the Renaissance, or in Jack's eyes, a clown. He wore the finest silks and satins, always black and orange. In public, he wore a black cape with orange and black lining, but took it off inside the castle. The buttons on his collar and doublet were gold and black boots were made from the finest leather. As for Jack, he wore a simple grey cotton button-down shirt over a pair of black and white pinstriped slacks and refused to wear anything else. "I...I don't know." He finally answered.

Zephaniah shook his head, but decided to drop the subject. "I suppose it does not matter. Come along..." He lead his son up a long, spiral staircase. The farther up they climbed, the more the castle began to look like a dungeon. Every ten steps or so hung a flag, tapestry, torch or painting of a past pumpkin kings. The stairs stopped at a long winding hallway, at the end of which was a heavy wooden door.

Zephaniah opened it and motioned for Jack to enter. "What's this? Jack asked as he looked upon the architect desk placed in the center of the study.

"This is what I wanted to show you." Zephaniah presented to his latest design with pride. "I call it the Cyclopes Eye. Is it not horrendous?"

"Hideous" Jack agreed.

Zephaniah took a seat at his desk and began to make a few more adjustments to a different project with his compass and slide rule. The candlelight made his ancient yellow bones look all the more ancient. "Just a few minor details and the layout for Skellington manor will be complete. I want to tear this old place down, start anew. The manor will be smaller, yes, but that is a good thing. A smaller home will be easier for us to manage. The construction will not take too long, not for the money I'm throwing towards it, oh no. This town is going to look very different in five years- ten at the very most. It will represent all of what Halloween _should_ be- as _I_ envision it!"

"Dad..." Jack addressed him cautiously. "The citizens are desperate for housing. Many areas are in dire need of repair. We have a home and enough creepy monuments. What good will Skellington manor or the Cyclopes Eye do for anyone?" Jack paused to interpret Zephaniah's expression. "Perhaps...you should call a town meeting. Halloween is so close and you have made no plans-"

"You do not think I have a decent grasp on Halloween?"

"No- I-I mean yes- I mean...I-I was just trying to be helpful..."

"How _dare_ you!" Zephaniah hissed as he slammed his fist on the table. Jack backed away as he stood from the chair, stomping towards him. "I **do not** need your help, John! I know what I am doing! Who are you to suggest otherwise?" He bellowed, ripping Jack off the floor.

Jack tried to squirm free from his grip, but Zephaniah's boney fingers wrapped tightly around his arms. "I-I only meant that-"

"I work hard- very hard! I would expect my ceaseless toiling to go on unappreciated by my subjects, but_ you_, John? To think-, my own _son_ thinks so little of me! It makes me ill!"

Jack clenched his eye sockets shut, terrified. His father was shaking him now, glaring holes in his soul. "But- but I-"

"Do you honestly believe you can run this town better than I?"

"I never said that!"

"Bite your tongue next time! I'll pound that lesson into you if it's the last thing I do, you ill-mannered little-" Zephaniah abandoned the insults for a beating. He threw Jack against the wall, making sure he landed on his stomach.

Before Jack could pull himself to his feet, Zephaniah tipped the desk on him, pinning him to the floor.

Jack gasped for breath as the weight of the ebony wood constricted his ribcage. He looked up to find his father still glaring down at him. "Remember who here is the king and who here is the prince, John" He sneered.

Jack tried to reach out and pull himself free, but Zephaniah stomped on his fingers, making a heavy _**crunch**_. Jack cried out, but was cut short. His father ripped him out from under the desk and to his feet by his hair.

"Retire to your chambers for the night!" He ordered. "I'm growing weary of you quickly!" He tossed Jack towards the door.

Jack stumbled, barely able to retain his balance by grabbing onto the bookshelf. He scurried out of the room, injured and frightened. He was relieved when the door slammed shut behind him. That meant Zephaniah would not be coming out for awhile. He scurried to his room, slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Crazy old bastard!" Jack grumbled, teary eyed. He pushed his recliner over and punched his closet door. "OW!" Jack howled as he shook the pain from his hand. He had forgotten which hand had been stepped on for a moment.

He paced around his bedroom, grumbling and cursing under his breath until his tears dried and he was calm enough to sit. He sat on his bed and sighed deeply. After inspecting his fingers, he discovered they were not broken after all. His ribcage was definitely bruised though. He realized it the moment he tried to lay down. His torso ached, making it hard for him to breathe.

Jack reached for the bag of candy on his nightstand. He chewed each piece slowly. It would the last batch of rat eye bonbons he would ever receive from Mrs. Frankenstein. The chocolate only soothed so much. He was still beaten, battered and degraded. How did things become so out of hand? What did he ever do to deserve such mistreatment? Jack wondered and wondered until his head began to hurt.

He couldn't go on living this way. A boy shouldn't fear his father. Technically, Jack should not fear anything, but Zephaniah had become such a different person- a ruthless mad man. Left with no other option, he rolled over on the side that ached the least and drifted off to sleep. He didn't expect to have any nice dreams that night.

The skeletal cock crowed at dawn, ripping Jack from his slumber. He rolled over, still in pain from the night before. He held his torso and bum shoulder as he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jack froze when he spotted Zephaniah rummaging through the cabinet, still in his nightclothes. The old skeleton looked at him with a weak smile. "Good morning." He greeted his son with a quick yawn. "You slept in...very unlike you."

Jack blinked twice. He couldn't believe it. Zephaniah, for the first time in years was not stumbling and slurring his words. "Good morning, dad." Jack said sheepishly. "Are you feeling well?"

"My head is killing me." He admitted. "I do hope it stops pounding by noon. I've been getting more and more headaches as of late."

"You must be overworked..."

"Aye...Oh, there you are!" Zephaniah pulled a bottle of red wine from the cabinet and began to pour himself a nice, tall glass.

Jack looked away, disappointed in the old skeleton. He took a seat at the kitchen table, staring at his lap.

Zephaniah noticed he was clutching his side. "What happened to your ribs? And your shoulder- they're mangled."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Last night you- you..." He must have passed out last night right after he struck me, Jack thought. The old fool doesn't remember a thing. This realization scared Jack to no end. "It's nothing, dad, I fell down the stairs last night, that's all."

"You are the clumsiest boy. You must be more careful." Zephaniah took his seat across from Jack.

"Are you still angry at me?" Jack asked before he could take a sip of his wine.

"No, John, everyone has accidents. Why, when I was your age-"

"No, I mean are you still angry about last night?"

"I didn't know you had hurt yourself until just now."

"But- But...I must have been dreaming." It was true. He had no recollection of the argument. The alcohol had finally shriveled up his brains.

"You're not a morning person are you?" He teased.

"I guess not." Jack sighed. "Dad... It's a little early don't you think?"

Zephaniah looked into his glass. "You know I can't hold anything else down at this hour. Besides, eat, drink and be merry. That is my motto."

"Maybe you should eat something first then, please?"

Zephaniah ignored him and downed his glass in one gulp. He eyed his son strangely, as he pored himself another. "You're rather jittery this morning, John. You've had me very worried, you know. You've just become so- so quiet, so absentminded." He took a sip before continuing. "I've been meaning to discuss this with you...I know things have been hard on us these past couple of years, but you're no longer a lumpling. You should be handling this better. John, your fourteen, almost fifteen...Pretty soon you will start courting pretty young ghouls and scaring the living on your own. You need to toughen up if you hope to rule this town properly one day.

Suddenly, something inside Jack's subconscious snapped. An uncontrollable rage swelled up within him and he glared at his father with white-hot hatred. "You son of a bitch!" He snarled, slapping the glass of wine off the table and all over Zephaniah's lap.

He stood, taken aback. "John! What has gotten into you?"

"_I'm_ not handling this well? My God, you are **pathetic**!" He shouted, pointing. "You're one to talk, you old washed-up drunk! You really think I should toughen up? FINE! From now on, my name is JACK! You hear me? Not John, **JACK**! And I am not going to lie down like an old dog the next time you go off on a rampage! You ** will not** strike me again, old man, EVER! I'll-"

"Bite your tongue!" Zephaniah backhanded Jack across the face, sending him stumbling backwards. "Where in the dismal wastelands and swamps did you ever get the notion that you could speak to me that way?" He slapped Jack again, knocking his jaw loose. "Do you know what your grandfather would have done to _me_ if _I_ knocked a drink from his hand?" The third slap knocked Jack to floor on his knees.

"Clean up this mess!" Zephaniah ordered as he threw a rag to the floor. He leered over Jack, making sure he mopped up every drop. His expression softened when he realized Jack was beginning to tear up. "Honestly, John, what possessed you?"

"Don't you understand?" He whimpered. "You're making everything worse."

Zephaniah disguised wiping away tears by flicked the tassel of his nightcap out of his face. "I'm making everything worse, am I? I suppose it's my fault she left too?"

"I never said that."

"But you believe it, don't you?"

Jack did not answer, only continued to stare at the floor.

"You're so hard on me, John...This has been difficult for me too, you know."

"I know."

"I miss your mother, more than you could ever imagine, but I have to carry on to rule Halloween and to raise you. I haven't done the best job of it, but I'm trying...It really hurts to know you think so little of me..."

Again, Jack said nothing. He didn't know what to say.

"Stand!" Zephaniah yanked him to his feet by his hair. "Off to your room for the rest of the day" He ordered, tossing Jack towards the door. "You are not to leave, not for any reason, do you understand?"

"Yes" Jack hissed as he limped away. He returned to his room, but this time, did not lie down. He changed into some clean clothes, combed, then braided his hair and grabbed his mother's bat head brooch from his jewelry box. He took a good, long look at it before stuffing it in his pocket.

"Mom, you had the right idea. I'm leaving and I am not coming back. The Hell with this castle and the Hell with him!" Jack vowed. He opened his window and crawled out onto the balcony. From there he used the vines clinging to the walls as a ladder to climb down on. He jumped to the ground when he was five feet above it and made a run for the graveyard. He was careful not to be seen before he reached the forest. He didn't know where he was going or what would become of him. All he knew was that Castle Skellington would be far behind him and at that point that's all Jack cared about.

a/n: I didn't get a chance to mention this, but Zephaniah and Jack look almost identical minus the obvious differences I pointed out in the story. Okay, I'm going to make a serious attempt to write a serious fan fic that's, like, dramatic and stuff. I'm used to bo-tard fics, so this is going to be a challenge.

I have mentioned Zephaniah in my second fic, 'As the Nightmare Continues', so I'm still in my own little fan universe of the Nightmare series, I'm just backtracking to tell Jack's story. Edgar's afterlife will be put on hold for the time being. I have no idea how long this is going to be, all I know is, I have many things in store for Jack. Please read and review. Praise and flames welcomed. Later, rock on.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Duo

Disclaimer: The film, Nightmare Before Christmas belongs to Tim Burton, genius film director. GENIUS!

It was now morning. Jack had walked all night through the woods. He yawned as he tried to block a sunbeam from his eye sockets. "Whoa!" He cried as he stumbled on an exposed root.

He managed to catch his balance. "Oh no...I tripped over that same root three hours ago!" He moaned, slapping his forehead. "Just splendid, I _am_ lost."

Jack looked around. All the trees looked exactly the same; tall, withered and bare. He searched the forest bed for some kind of trail, but he found nothing. Defeated, he leaned against a tree and tried to think of a solution. It wouldn't be a good idea to wonder through the woods without any idea of his whereabouts, but he couldn't return to Halloween town either. One: because he didn't know the way back and two: because even if he did return, someone would send him back to Castle Skellington. That was **not** an option.

Jack tapped his forehead, frustrated. "What to do...Think! Think!" He mentally cursed himself for not bringing a compass. He decided to search for moss to figure out which way north was. It was the only thing he could come up with at the moment.

He was exhausted by this point and extremely hungry. Every once in a while he found insects to munch on, but they weren't too filling and most of them were really hard to catch. Another half hour had passed (he could only tell by the length of his shadow) and he still had no idea where he was or what direction he was walking in.

Suddenly, Jack heard leaves rustling in the distance. He froze to make sure he wasn't hearing his own footsteps. There was giggling as well and he knew for sure he wasn't alone. "Who's there?" He shouted, looking about anxiously.

There came no reply other than more giggling.

"I can hear you! Show yourselves!"

"Sure!"

"Ah!" Jack spun around, startled. He looked down. Standing before him were two small children. They were little witches- no, one was a warlock.

They were both very skinny with dark circles under their eyes. The warlock wore faded red robes with a long, black shirt underneath. It had black embroidery on the sleeves that shaped odd, ominous symbols. Jack suspected he was the apprentice of a necromancer. His messy dark blue hair fell over half his face and past his neck. He had a weak chin with a large nose and was pale white with green lips. His eyes were a cold, slate color.

The witch wore a huge purple pointed hat with black ribbon tied around the brim. The bodice and sleeves of her dress was the same purple, but the rest of it was dark grey. Her long auburn red hair was tied back at the ends with black mesh, forming a tight bun. Her angular face was the lightest shade of green, her lips an aqua blue and her eyes a dark brown, almost black. Both lumplings looked dirty and ragged, as if they had been wondering this forsaken forest for years.

"Um, hello...D-do you know where we are?" He asked timidly.

"Nope, we're lost" The little warlock grinned, exposing a row of razor sharp teeth.

"You're stuck out here." The witch added, snickering.

"Oh...well, thank you anyways." Jack backed away and walked off. The wicked grins they wore gave him the creeps and not the fun kind either.

Unfortunately, they followed him close behind. "What's your name?" The warlock asked in his grating, nasally tone.

"Jack."

"I'm Sting and this is Metlock- er- um, Latch." The witch introduced them. "What are you up to, Jack?"

"Walking" He quickened his pace, but the duo caught up with him. He decided to make conversation. After all, it was nice to have company after going so long without it. They were just lumplings, how much trouble could they be? "So...what are you two doing?"

"Never you mind, Jack." Latch sneered.

"Shouldn't you two be back in your own communities?"

"No!" Latch protested. "Our magic is freelance."

"Oh, so you ran away." Jack chuckled. "That's fine, I'm running away too. Are you siblings -cousins maybe?"

The children exchanged odd looks and then burst out laughing. "Not a chance!" They cried in unison.

"Latch is my sweetheart." Sting cooed, forcing him in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

Latch freed himself by elbowing her in the stomach, but then turned right around and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "She's _my_ witch. I claimed her for when we're grown, fair and square."

Jack looked surprised. "Aren't you a bit young for courting?"

"Aw, what do you know your majesty!" Sting sneered.

Jack froze. "How...how did you know I'm-"

"-The pumpkin prince?" She chuckled. "We recognized your face."

"You can't mistake that bone structure." Latch added. "We could spot the Skellington in you a mile away."

"Well, don't tell anyone I'm out here, alright? I'm trying to leave town."

"Oh, we won't tell a soul." Sting assured him, her tone insincere. "No one would listen to us anyways."

"Thank you. Well, I better be off, unless either of you can tell me which way is north." Jack didn't wait for a reply.

The children jumped out in front of him, blocking his path. "What's the matter, your majesty? Don't you want to play with us?" Sting asked with a twisted little smirk on her face.

Jack backed away. "I'm too old for hide and go shriek, fellows-"

"That game is dull." Latch agreed, taking another step towards him. "We know much better games." He laughed. "Much, _much_ better."

"I'm sure you do, but-"

Sting tipped her hat so the brim cast a shadow over her eyes. "We like to play 'see what princy poo has for the picking'."

"I beg your pardo-?"

"NOW!" She shouted, pointing.

Latch reached into his pocket and threw a strange powder at Jack's face, blinding him.

Jack cried out in stinging agony. He stumbled about, trying his damnedest to scrape the dust out of his eye sockets when he was tackled to the ground. "Stop! Unhand me!" He ordered.

"QUIET!" Latch hissed.

Jack struggled, but the children weighed him down. He still could not see, but he recognized the sound of blades being pulled from their sheaths. Latch must have hid them in his robes and was now using them to pin Jack in the dirt.

The warlock drove two blades through Jack's torso. Latch wedged the knives in between his ribs, using the hilts to block him from sitting up. "Search his pockets!" He instructed while holding back Jack's arms.

"LET ME GO!"

"Piss off!" Sting felt around Jack's pockets, growing frustrated when she found nothing valuable. "What kind of prince are you- Oh! What's this...?" She pulled the bat brooch from Jack's pants pocket, grinning triumphantly. "This is pretty."

"Looks expensive" Latch agreed. "We can sell it."

"Don't you dare!" Jack jerked an arm free and snatched a lock of Latch's hair.

"OOOW! Sting, HELP!"

"Brute!" She snarled, grinding her heel on Jack's neck. Latch broke free, but not without getting a tuft of hair ripped from his scalp.

The duo's cackling became gargled as Jack fought for breath. He tried to pull her leg off, but the wicked little witch wouldn't budge. Latch took the opportunity to kick Jack's side. When he was convinced the skeleton was in too much pain to move, he motioned for Sting to run.

By the time Jack's sight returned and he was able to sit upright, the children were a hundred yards away, still running at full speed. Furious, he raced after them. "GIVE THAT BACK!" He ordered, gaining on them fast.

Latch stopped, allowing Sting to run ahead with the brooch. He reached into his robe and before Jack could turn his face, he was blinded again by the same powder.

He fell to his knees, forced to listen to the duo's taunting cackling as they ran off. He was about to give up when the sound of hoofs crashing against the ground like bolts of lightening galloped behind him. Jack looked back and spotted a cloaked figure charging towards him astride a pale green horse.

He ducked, allowing the horse to leap over him and chase after the duo. The cloaked figure outran them, doubled back, and raced towards the children head on. The hooligans screamed as the horse bucked wildly above their heads, snorting out black smog. They scrambled in the other direction, but the rider outstretched his scythe, blocking their path.

"Where do you think you're going?" The rider asked in a dark, raspy voice.

The duo cowered before him. "Please don't hurt us!" Sting begged.

"We didn't hurt anyone..." Latch insisted.

The rider extended a gnarled, skeleton hand. "Hand it over."

Sting held it tightly against her chest, hesitant to give it up. Latch slapped her in the back of her head. "You stupid sow! Give him the damn thing!"

Sting sadly handed him the brooch. Satisfied, the cloaked ghoul drew back his scythe and motioned for the duo to scram. Latch was gone in a flash. Sting would have been right next to him, had she not have to scramble for her hat. The cloaked figured released a weak chuckle. He pulled down his hood, revealing his skull. "Hoodlums" He spat before turning his attention to Jack.

Jack, still on his knees, stared at the old skeleton, unable to move. "Death?" He called to him. "Is it really you?"

"The one and only." He chuckled as he climbed down from his horse. "My, John, I haven't seen you since you were a baby. You're growing like a weed." Death gave him a warm smile (or as warm of a smile as Death could possible give). He approached Jack slowly, using his scythe as a walking stick. "Are you alright?" He asked, pulling the boy to his feet. Death had the coldest hands Jack had ever felt.

"I was just robbed by eight-year-olds, do I seem alright?" Jack clamped his jaw shut and gave an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I-I'm just...Thank you for driving them off."

"Any time, son." Death returned the brooch. "I believe this is yours."

"I thought I had lost this for sure. I don't how to repay you." Jack inspected his prized and only possession for scratches and then stuffed it back in his pocket. "Who were they anyways?"

Death shook his head. "Oh, two feral children who are always exploring these woods- making mischief. They will be criminals one day; you wait and see."

"Don't they have homes to go to? Parents to care for them?"

Death shrugged. "I'm not sure. If they have, their parents are not worth a damn. Those two should have starved weeks ago, but I haven't the heart to reap them."

Jack looked down at his feet. "I should have let them have it. I didn't know..."

Death patted him on the back. "Don't feel guilty, son. Latch and Sting can be very black hearted. A lot of their misery, they bring on themselves." He brushed off Jack's clothes and noticed his many injuries. "Good Lord, you look dreadful. What in heavens' name are you doing out here?"

"I was getting away from- trying to get away from- from..." Jack trailed off.

Death did not wait for an explanation. "Come with me. I'll fix you up when we get to my house." He led Jack over to his horse and helped him climb onto its back. At first, the horse kicked, attempting to throw Jack off.

"Steady!" Death ordered, grabbing onto the reins. "Heel, girl, the boy's with me." He cooed, stroking her snout before hopping on himself. He saw the terrified look in Jack's eye sockets and laughed. "Don't be afraid, Twilight is gentle as a lamb, aren't you gorgeous?"

"If you say so-WHOA!" Jack wasn't expecting Twilight to take off so suddenly. He hugged Death's waist as tightly as he could. "This is a rough ride!" he shouted over the galloping and snorting. "Shouldn't you use a saddle?"

"How would you like it if someone strapped a seat on your back and road you around all day? It's rough on the pelvis, sure, but I will not treat Twilight as some beast of burden, will I, girl?"

"You're much too attached to this horse." Jack thought to himself. "How far is your home?"

"Not far, John, be patient!"

"I go by Jack now a days!"

"How fun, nicknames!"

"It's not a nickname! Jack is short for John, and it has a nicer ring to it!"

"Short? Son, they're both four letters!" Death laughed. "No need for explanations, I go by many names! Grim Reaper, Angel of Death, the fourth horseman, the Ferryman, Thanatos, Yama, Ya,araja, Shinigami-" Death spent the whole ride back listing every name he (and in some cases _she_) had been given down through history. It was maddening, but Jack endured. He admired Death's charisma and his technique. Death had struck fear into the hearts of Latch and Sting, even though fear seemed beyond their nature. Everything around him turned bleak and menacing and he made it look so effortless...

"-Charon, Morrigan, and in one world, they know me as Ghost of Christmas fu- oh, here we are!" Through the trees appeared a small, broken-down log shack. Death yanked on the reins and Twilight came to a complete stop.

After Jack hopped down, Death tied his horse to a post and escorted Jack inside. "You shouldn't be wondering these woods." He warned while lighting a candle. "There are many dangerous beings lurking about: shades, thallids, drows, goblins, poltergeists, bugaboos, sliths- Nasty, vile creatures too destructive to dwell in Halloween. You're lucky you only ran into Latch and Sting..."

"I will be careful." Jack struggled to find a place to stand that wasn't completely wrecked. You couldn't take two steps without tripping over discarded junk. Old books, strange artifacts, chipped hourglasses, and dirty dishes were scattered everywhere and all was covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. Most of all, there were clocks- hundreds and hundreds of clocks all set at different times. The doors creaked, the roof leaked, the floorboards were loose, and all the furniture was made from driftwood tied together by rope (and maybe a cushion thrown on top). Deaths home was in the worst condition of any home in Halloween town.

Death placed a cigar in his mouth and took a long hard drag. More smoke escaped his nostrils and eye sockets than it did his mouth. "Care for one?" He asked, offering Jack the cigar box.

"No thank you."

"You don't smoke hu? Good, don't start. Stains the marrow, you know. Oh, where are my manners? Sit, don't worry about that junk. Just throw it on the floor."

Jack brushed the cluttered mess aside and flopped on the couch. Dust flew out of the lumpy cushions and began to choke him.

"My apologies. I'm not very tidy. I work long hours, _very_ long hours."

"It's alright," Jack assured him, coughing. "I don't mind."

Death pulled up an old stool and sat across from him. His expression sobered. "Enough idle chit chat, son" He began, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "What are you doing wandering around out here?"

Jack took a long pause before finally confessing. "I'm running away."

Death raised a brow. "Running away? From what?"

"From everything."

"Things are not going well at home?"

"You haven't got a clue." Jack looked to his lap and began to fidget. He had never really spoken to anyone about his problems before. He felt awkward, ashamed... "Ever since mom left, Castle Skellington has gone to Hell. Dad has lost his mind. He won't stop drinking, he behaves so irrationally-"

"Wait, Jack, slow down!" Death begged, waving his hand and getting cigar ashes everywhere. "Zephaniah and Merriam _divorced_ you say?"

"Not exactly. Mom left three years ago without a Dear John letter or anything. I didn't even get to say goodbye..."

"I had heard rumors, but- Good Lord, Jack, I'm sorry. How is Zephaniah holding up?"

"Badly. The only thing he has less of a grip on besides reality is Halloween. He has given up on scaring, Death. All he focuses on is his architecture. It'll improve the town, sure, but as soon as the Nightmare Rank drops everything will grind to a halt! He's destroying himself and he's taking everyone else with him. I've tried to make him understand, but...It's as if he doesn't care anymore."

Death put out his cigar in an ashtray and placed his hands on Jack's shoulder. "You're father is obviously going through a hard time. You cannot desert him now."

"I wish you could watch him for one day, you would understand!" Jack clenched his eyelids shut and balled his fist, holding back his emotions as hard as he could.

"Jack? Jack, you're trembling."

"It was just like mom to do such a thing!" He spat coldly. "All she ever cared about was her castle and her damn dresses and jewelry! She never loved us; she just wanted our namesake! Dad is no better- selfish bastard! This is all his fault in the first place! Well, the hell with him! The hell with both of them!"

"ENOUGH!" Death cried before backhanding Jack right across the face.

Jack fell to his knees, stunned. He looked up in wide-eyed terror as Death glared down at him with his hands on his hips.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" The ancient skeleton scolded. "I'll admit, what has happened to your family is no short of tragic, but Zephaniah and Merriam are still your parents and you **will not** speak of them with such vulgar disrespect- not in front of me anyways! Do I make myself clear?"

Jack stared up at him, unable to give the slightest response. Two small streams of tears rolled down his cheekbones. The faint ray of hope he had seen in Death had extinguished. He was used to being struck by Zephaniah, but Death's hand was so much colder, so much more unforgiving. An angel had forsaken him, an _angel_! Overwhelmed with despair, Jack looked to the floor and began to sob.

Death's expression softened. "Oh- oh my..." He whimpered, smacking his forehead. Death mentally kicked himself. Nothing tore him up inside like watching a child cry. He got down on his knees (despite how badly they ached him) and embraced Jack in a hug.

"Oh, Jack forgive me! The eons have weathered my temper short. It won't happen again, I promise..."

Jack buried his face on Death's shoulder and continued to sob. Death held him tightly, patting his back to comfort him. He felt the bruises on Jack's ribcage. He felt his fractured spine. He could feel Jack's broken spirit and it was enough to kill even him.

Jack broke away from his embrace. He no longer sobbed, but still shed tears. "I'm not making this up, I'm not!" He insisted, voice shaky.

"I know, son. You're very troubled. Perhaps you should stay here a day or so, until you're rested..." Death looked up at an hourglass on the shelf. "I-I'm so sorry, but have to get back to work. The shack is yours until I return. We'll figure out what to do then, hmm?"

Jack sniffed back his tears and nodded in agreement.

"Alright then..." Death struggled to get back on his feet, pulling Jack to his. "Cheer up, son," He begged, giving Jack a playful slap on the back. "You can get through this."

Jack responded with a halfhearted nod before flopping down on the couch. Death grabbed his scythe and pulled his hood over his face. "I think there's some skunk root left in the pantry. Help yourself. I'll bring something better home for breakfast."

Jack raised a brow. It was breakfast time now. "You're going to be gone all day?"

"And all night." Death sighed heavily. "Like I said, I work very long hours. It will only seem like a long time. Just sit tight."

"Yes sir."

"Sir...?" Death cocked his head in confusion. "I haven't been referred to as 'sir' in a while... It seems...unnatural. Death will do, eh?"

"Sure...See you in the morning, Death."

The ancient skeleton waved goodbye and rushed out the door. Jack looked around the dark, empty shack. Feelings of loneliness and abandonment swept over him and he pulled his knees to his chest, forming a fetal-like position.

Suddenly, the door burst open. "Oh! By the way-" Death began. "Please do not play with my bric-a-brac or flip through my books, they're work related. Don't go downstairs either. I'll explain later. Thank you!" With that, he shut the door behind him once again.

Jack heard Twilight's galloping fading away in the distance. Death had left for good this time, so he returned to his fetal position. Rather then dwell on his memories; he struggled to think of a way to kill twenty-four hours...

a/n: Yay, plot development! To make something clear, Death (or at least in this fic) is literally a dark angel and a shape shifter. In Halloween town, he tends to stay in his traditional, scythe wielding skeletal form. This will make more sense later on (and any mythological inaccuracies I will make will be made on purpose for the sake of making this story interesting). I'm so happy with my reviews so far. Please keep it up. You all rock!

Oh and PS: I will reward the first reviewer who can guess who Latch and Sting are supposed to be with a batch of my virtual brownies (which in fact give off the same effect as my real brownies...yum...)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Death's Basement

Disclaimer: Je ne...ne...dammit, I can't remember the verb 'to own'! I wasted Five years of my life in French class just for this! Oh well, just settle for 'I do not own The Nightmare Before Christmas' in English. Oh, and thanks for all the reviews!

a/n: BarrelsNo.1fan and Duskkitsune88 get the brownies! I couldn't tell who reviewed first. Aw hell, brownies for everyone!

A few hours had passed, or at least it felt like it. It was hard to measure the exact time with so many clocks scattered about. Jack tried to catch up on sleep, but he couldn't drift off. Death's home was cozy enough, but it was difficult for him to sleep in strange beds (or couches rather).

Left with nothing better to do, Jack decided to clean. He stacked books on the shelves, ignoring his overwhelming urge to read them. He brought dirty dishes into the kitchen, straightened up the furniture, piled up all loose papers into stacks on the table, that sort of thing. He didn't bother to dust or sweep. A few cobwebs added to the ambiance after all.

By sundown, Jack had managed to clean the living room and part of the kitchen. Weary and covered with grime, he decided to quit for the evening. He rummaged through the pantry and found nothing edible besides a sack of grain and a saltlick. Upon his second glance, he found a couple of teabags wedged in the corner on the bottom shelf. "Eureka!" He cheered, snatching the bags before a rat could sniff at them.

Jack hung the rusty kennel over the fireplace and waited for the water to boil. He hovered close to the flames to warm his bones. A strong wind howled outside, blowing through the cracks in the wall. Jack sighed as he slouched on the sofa. He wished he had someone to talk too...

He stirred the flames with a poker, taking a step back when the embers danced too wildly. "This isn't so bad..." He told himself. "It's quiet around here, but at least I'm away from the castle..."

Just when Jack believed he was beginning to feel at home, he heard a strange noise. He looked about nervously. Was it a bump? A crash? Footsteps? He couldn't tell. He listened closely, remaining perfectly still.

He heard it clearer now. It was a whisper, no, many whispers, maybe even hundreds. They all seemed to be calling to him, asking 'Who's this?'

Jack backed away, bumping into the couch. He tripped over the arm and onto the floor. He looked up and noticed a door latched shut in the corner. The whispering seemed to be coming from behind it. "Maybe it's just a closet..." Jack dismissed himself. Slowly, without a sound, he unhooked the latch and cracked the door open. Behind it was a flight of stairs only visible halfway; the rest disappeared into shadow.

"Don't go downstairs either" He heard Death's voice in his head.

Jack shut the door and walked away. Death had been very hospitable to him thus far and he did not want to seem ungrateful by disobeying orders. The tea kennel whistled. "Wonderful" He sighed with relief.

Jack brewed himself a nice, hot cup. He sipped it slowly on the couch, trying his best to relax and to forget about the door. He couldn't drown out the whispering no matter what though. A thousand tiny voices chattered in his skull. He found himself glancing back at the door every ten seconds, then every five, then every two until he was staring at it, intensely. "I'll just take a peak. I won't touch anything. Death will never know I was down there..."

Jack inched the door opened. Nothing happened within the first three steps down the stairs, so he continued. Each step creaked and moaned. Jack prayed the stairs wouldn't collapse out from under him before he reached the bottom. When the room became pitch black, he clutched the railing tightly.

What seemed like an eternity later, he reached the basement floor. He put his arms out in front of him to feel his way through the darkness. He touched nothing but stale, basement air until he accidentally bumped into something. "OW!" He yelped, rubbing his aching shin. "What's a table doing down...here...?"

Upon further inspection, Jack discovered what he had bumped into was in fact a coffin. He hit his shins on at least twelve more before he reached the opposite wall. Jack took a seat on one and pondered for a moment. What would Death need all these coffins for? He didn't sleep in them (as far Jack knew anyways) and he collected souls, not dead bodies. Maybe he collects them. No...Death doesn't seem like the guy who has much time for hobbies. Maybe he builds them. No, the time issue again. Maybe they're just for decoration. Then why would they be in the basement instead of all that junk upstairs?

There was only one way to find out. He pried open one of the lids and found something he had never expected to in a million years. Packed inside the coffin were glowing jars that illuminated the entire basement. Jack had to shield his eye sockets at first, but when they adjusted, he leaned in for a closer look. "What is this...?" He asked, picking up one of the jars.

He jiggled it for a moment until something inside stirred. It was an insect of some kind with beautiful blue wings. It's wingspan was as wide as a woman's fist. "Hello there" Jack whispered to it. "What are you doing in there?"

The insect spun around, revealing a skeleton body clothed in tattered black cloth. Jack and the winged skeleton let out startled cries in unison. He fumbled the jar, catching it just in time. "W-what are you?"

The tiny skeleton fluttered its wings nervously, sprinkling silver dust everywhere. It backed up against the glass, cowering before Jack. "Calm down, I won't hurt you." He assured it- her...

It _was_ as she and a lovely she at that. Her small, willowy bones gave off a silver sheen and her long, slate-colored hair fell past her collarbone in loose curls. She had wide, deep eye sockets that seemed to burn holes through Jack as she stared up at him in horror. She had such pretty, slender jaw line and the smoothest brow. Jack wished she were his size.

"Can you speak?"

She didn't respond.

"I'm Jack- Jack Skellington. What's your name?"

The winged skeleton opened her mouth, but all Jack could hear was a faint series of sighs and chirps. "What are you exactly? Some kind of imp? A really small slith maybe?"

Again, she gave no coherent response. She did however, flutter closer towards Jack, or at least as close as the glass jar would allow her. "Are those your friends down there? Are they all girls too?"

Jack picked up another jar with an orange winged skeleton inside. This one was male as far as Jack could tell. He was not as shy as his female counterpart was. It slammed its fist against the glass, hissing violently as if to curse. He decided to put the male back and return his attention to the female.

"It looks cramped in there...Here, let me help you." He screwed off the lid, allowing the winged skeleton to fly out into the open air.

Overjoyed, she reached out and gave him a kiss of gratitude above his nostrils. Jack mentally blushed, then started to sneeze. She left sparkling powder wherever she fluttered. She hovered over Jacks head, encouraging him to chase her.

He couldn't resist. She was so beautiful and jumping after her was the most fun he had in years. Finally, he hopped up on one of the coffins and scooped her up in his palms. "Ah ha! Got you!"

She giggled sweetly. She rested her head against his thumb, slowly flapping her wings. It was hypnotizing watching those glowing blue wings move back and forth. He stroked her hair with his pointer finger, urging her to dance on his hand.

She complied, skipping from finger to finger. "I think I'll call you...Anna." He announced to her. "Is that alright?"

She didn't reply, just continued to waltz from one finger to the next.

"I wish you could understand me. Maybe you will eventually. You can stay upstairs with me. I don't think Death will notice if just one of you is missing. I can't believe he keeps you in a jar. That doesn't seem like him at all..."

She frowned, breathing a small, melodic sigh.

Jack smiled. Maybe she could understand him. "I'll even let you fly around outside if you promise to comeback to the cabin. Do you promise?"

She nodded yes then perched herself on Jack's head. "Hey, stop, that tickles!" he laughed, attempting to shoo her away. She dodged his hand and landed on his shoulder, giving him another kiss on the cheek.

Jack felt warm inside. No girl (other than his mother) had ever kissed him on the cheek before. He gently caressed her chin with his finger. She began to whisper things to him. Her language was foreign to him at first, but the more he listened, the more he understood. She told him beautiful things, poetic things, things Jack desperately wanted him to hear.

Her words, so soft and melodious, echoed through his skull. It put Jack in a trance. He found himself unable and unwilling to move away from her side. He loved her touch, her voice, her scent. His eyelids became heavy as she fluttered in his face, showing off her wings and the black swirls marked on them. He swayed unsteadily as he breathed in the dust she excreted.

She kissed him on the forehead, both cheeks and his lips (or where his lips would be). At that point, Jack was completely stupefied. He saw and heard only her, and he wished to see nothing else for the rest of his afterlife. "I love you, Anna..." He whispered to her.

She giggled and gave him one last kiss. After that, everything went black...

"**AHHHHHH!**"

To Jack's horror, he awoke four hours later with the lower half of his body cocooned in gooey silk. Hundreds of winged skeletons swarmed over his head, screeching and clawing at his face and scalp. Silver dust flew everywhere as their wings rapidly changed colors with each flap.

Jack swatted them out of his face as he sat upright. He attempted to rip away at his bonds, only to get his fingers entangled. The tiny skeletons began to crawl all over him. They crept into his eye sockets and up the sleeves of his shirt. "Get away! Buzz off!" He ordered, swiping at them.

He managed to break his legs free and stand only to be mauled by the angry flock. He stumbled about, tripping over the empty jars Anna must have opened while he was knocked out.

They continued to attack him, ripping out strands of hair. Frantically, Jack scooped up as many of them as he could and jammed them back into their jars. The winged skeletons protested, scattering wildly in the air, screeching and chattering their jaws at him. It was a chaotic battle, but Jack eventually triumphed. Battered and out of breath, he placed the last skeleton filled jar back into its coffin and slammed the lid shut. He collapsed to his knees, using the casket as a crutch to keep from passing out on the floor.

He hacked up dust as he dragged his weary frame up the stairs. His shirt hung on him in shreds. Halfway up the staircase, his legs gave out on him and he was forced to claw the rest of the way up and onto the couch. He buried his face in the cushion to keep his head from spinning. It didn't work.

Jack groaned as he looked around the room. The floor and walls began to stretch. There came a shrill, disembodied laughter. Shadows consumed him, but were driven away by a blinding light only to consume him again. The last thing Jack heard before blacking out once again was harsh, villainous whispering...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: New Arrangements

Disclaimer: The rights to the Nightmare Before Christmas are owned by Tim Burton. Yay, lawsuit's prevented!

When Jack first awoke, his eyesight was very blurry. With each blink the room became clearer until he realized Death and that pointy scythe of his was staring down at him through his hood.

"Morning, sunshine"

"Wha-?" Jack sat up, holding his pounding head. His hair draped over his face in frizzy waves and half his buttons had come undone. "Oh...my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton."

"Hmm, I wonder why." Death thumped Jack in the back of the head.

Silver dust shot out of his eye sockets along with a very irritated winged skeleton. Jack gasped as Death snatched Anna in his fist. "Death I...I-"

"You left the door open. Not a very clever move."

Jack didn't even try to cover for himself, he knew he was caught. "I didn't hurt any of them. I-I was just curious-"

"Curiosity killed the cat." He scolded. "Trust me, I know. I ask one thing of you while I'm away and you do the opposite! Do you have any idea how dangerous these things are?" he hissed, holding Anna up to Jacks face.

Jack timidly shook his head no. "What are they? Why are they so dangerous?"

Death sighed, pulling his hood down. "This, son, is a crypt nymph." He began, setting Anna back in her Jar and stuffing it up his sleeve. "I breed them. They are...how should I put it- disaster trackers. I send a few out a day and they come back and inform me when and where a natural disaster will strike. I use a color-coded system. This one here detects floods, hurricanes and those sorts of things, while green ones detect earthquakes or mudslides and red ones fires or volcanoes and so on. They make soul reaping more efficient, but they're wily, mischievous creatures. If they do not recognize you as their master, they will dispose of you and run amok, _causing_ natural disasters instead of _detecting_ them. I am their master, my orders are the only one's they'll follow and that is why I have to lock them up. You could have easily led to the destruction of Halloween town or who knows what else!"

Jack felt as if he was shrinking. "I-I'm very sorry...She was just so beautiful, I-"

"She seduced you, you fool! Never mind, just next time, if I say don't touch something, I mean **don't touch it**!"

"Yes, Death..."

"Good lad..." Death patted him on the back. Jack was still too nervous to react. "Oh, I picked this up for you on the way home." He announced, setting a bundle on Jack's lap. "Its just squid, but they call it calamari. Try it, its good."

Jack unwrapped his food and wolfed it down, using his hands. He was too hungry to care about table manners. "The texture's a bit odd, but its good." He said with his mouth full.

"Eat up, Jack. Your bones are too thin; you're starting to look hollow."

Jack shoved another fist full of squid in his mouth, trying not look embarrassed. It always amused him how only a skeleton could tell if another skeleton was malnourished.

"And drink this." Death handed him a lopsided vial. "Its good for the bones."

Jack popped the cork and swallowed the liquid in one sip. He was pleased to discover it was milk rather then some bizarre elixir or tonic. "You're not angry- about the crypt nymphs, are you?"

Death slouched forward, running his boney fingers across his scalp. "No son, I'm not angry. I'm just tired...very, very tired. I swear, if it weren't for my cigar breaks, I'd- I'd...Where are my cigars?"

Death got out of his seat and started to tear apart the room, searching. "What did you do? I can't find a thing in here now!" He complained, throwing the books, papers and everything else Jack had organized over his shoulder.

"Wait! They're on the bureau, here!" Jack lit a cigar with a candle and handed it to Death before he completely demolished the room.

"Ah, thank you..." With a shaky hand, Death took a long drag. He flopped on the couch to relax and savor the flavor. "Dreadful habit" He stated, exhaling. "But physical addictions make me feel alive in a way."

"Hmm" Jack nodded in agreement, although he wasn't exactly sure what Death meant.

"I'm not used to everything being so neat around here...I'll adjust though. Sorry I snapped. I appreciate all the trouble-"

"It was no trouble. Your books are in alphabetical order- I didn't read them." He quickly added. "Your robes are in the closet and wardrobe and I separated the clocks and hour glasses."

Death inspected the room and nodded when everything seemed to be satisfactory. "Very good. Why, I can see the floor. Ha! Haven't seen it in centuries. I could really use a rug, carpeting maybe. No matter..." Death put out his cigar and tossed the butt in the trash. "Lets take a look at your shoulder, shall we?"

He led Jack into a dark, cramped back room. The door consisted of teeth, shells and hacked up bones hung on string. It was not very inviting at all. Jack looked around at what appeared to be an office. In the center of the floor stood a desk with chairs at both sides. Large bookshelves cluttered with papers and various charms, utensils and artifacts were set against each wall.

"Sit." Death ordered, leaning his scythe against the wall. He tore a curtain from the wall and started to rip it to shreds. "Now, take your shirt off. Don't be shy. You have nothing I do not."

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Jack removed his shirt and threw his hair over his shoulder. He flinched when Death placed his ice-cold hand on his spinal column. "The nymphs clawed you good. Can't do much about that besides wait for your marrow to recoup." Death shook his head, disheartened. "Sit tight while I bandage you up, and try not to lean on your left side too much. I can feel the separation between the third and fourth rib."

"Alright-Ah!" Jack yelped as Death bound his ribcage in old rags. He then grabbed Jack's bum arm and worked it fully back into its socket. The popping sound made Jack ill. His bum arm began to ache as well as his back and ribs.

Death sensed his discomfort. "I know, it smarts, but we can't have your bones heal on their own. They'll get warped. You should have been looked at sooner, Jack. Its not wise to leave injuries untreated...They weren't from a fall, were they?"

Jack shook his head no.

"Sparing the rod is one thing, but...I'm holding my tongue. It's really none of my business. You really need to go home and work this out. Your fathers probably looking for you and the longer he has to search, the angrier he's going to be when he finds you. I can try and reason with him, but I can't keep you here if he decides your going home. No use in prolonging the agony."

Death's warning made Jack's non existent stomach churn. Go home? He couldn't be serious. "Its no use...Look, thank you for everything. I-I know I've caused a lot of trouble and I'm sorry. I have some money stored away back home. It'll cover the rent at Hemlock Homestead. That's what I had initially planned to do, but I panicked. You've been very kind to me and I greatly appreciate it. I'll repay you for everything somehow, but until then, so long..." Hurt, Jack put his shirt back on, braded his hair and walked out the door.

"Wait!" Death chased after him, catching him by the fireplace. He looked Jack in the eye sockets and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Son, I think you took that the wrong way. I only meant your should talk to your father."

"I can't."

"Why not? Your problems will not go away if you run from them. I know you're scared, but-"

"Don't you understand? You see what he's done to me!" Jack cried as he jerked his shoulder free. "I'm fed up with him! There is no point in talking to Zephaniah. He is a drunken, ruthless old tyrant whose gone completely out of his skull! I want nothing more to do with him!"

"Because you're scared of him."

Jack looked away. "Don't rub it in. I'm ashamed enough as it is."

"Oh, come now-"

"No, really! I'm the pumpkin prince for the Celt's sake! I'm supposed to lead hordes of ghouls to the real world and strike paralyzing fear into the hearts of mortals one day, but look at me! I-I'm hiding from an old bag of bones. What kind of pumpkin king could I ever hope to be?" Jack sat on the couch, burring his face in his palms.

Death sat beside him and placed a sympathetic hand on his back. "You'll be a great one. I see big things in your future, son. During your reign as king will spread fear the likes your father never could."

"How do you know?"

"I have some insight into these things."

Jack studied Death's expression. It seemed sincere. Still, Jack had his doubts. "Admit it; you think I'm a coward."

"_You_ think you're a coward." Death corrected him. "Buts your conscience is another thing you have to work out, isn't it?" He clamped his jaw shut, trying to think of something more encouraging. "Its alright to be afraid, you know."

"That's easy for you to say. You're the grim reaper. What could you possibly have to be afraid of?"

Death sighed. "You'd be surprised... Jack, I'm not going to force you to make one decision or another. I'm just trying to give some good advice. I think you should talk to your father. I've known Zephaniah since he was a babe. He can be thickheaded, but he will listen if you're patient with him."

Jack took a long pause, but finally nodded in agreement. "I'll talk to him- eventually, I promise, but not right now. Dad took the breakup very hard...maybe if I leave him alone for a while it'll give him a chance to get his head back on straight."

"Very well...Until then, you're welcomed to stay here with me just so long as you stay out of the basement."

Relieved, Jack expressed his gratitude with a hug. "Thank you, thank you!"

"No problem, son." When Jack dropped the hug, Death kicked up his feet on an overturned laundry basket. "Good, now that that's settled, fetch me another cigar. I want to relax before work."

Jack did as instructed, looking disappointed. "But you just got home and you're exhausted."

"When the bell tolls, son." Death explained before lighting the end and taking a long drag.

Jacks nose crinkled as he inhaled the smoke. "You can barely stand. You haven't slept or ate once since I got here. Is reaping really so urgent?"

"Even more so."

Jack paused to think. He hated to watch the old skeleton run himself to the ground and he didn't want to be stuck alone for another day and a half either. "Maybe I could help you. I don't know much about reaping, but you could show me how. I'm a quick learner. Take me to the real world and I'll-"

"**NO**!" Death protested. His voice so low and raspy it caused Jack to jump three steps back. "Don't say such foolish things! You don't know what you're asking! Don't surrender your very existence to the scythe!" He warned, stomping towards Jack, pointing a gnarled, boney finger. "This is _my_ burden to bear, _my_ accursed duty to carry out!"

Death backed Jack into a corner, glaring down at him with red-hot intensity. He clutched Jack's shoulders, nearly bending his collarbone past its breaking point. "Death's process is a necessary evil beyond this world- beyond most worlds and **I** am to handle it! NEVER inquire about my work, NEVER!"

Jack nodded. "I-I won't..." He squeaked. "I just wanted to help."

Death's expression softened. He released Jack and backed away wearing a look of fear and shame. "I know...I'm sorry...But you made me nervous. There are some things I have to keep secret or I could get in huge trouble, understand? My job it's...it's much more complicated than you may realize."

"I understand. Are you alright?"

Death leaned his frame over the table, trying to regulate his breathing. "I'm fine, I just need to get going. Grab my scythe, would you?"

Jack was too busy staring at first, but forced himself back into reality. He fetched the scythe from the back room, but was hesitant to hand it to him. "Are you sure you can make it? You look awful."

"I think I very good for my age." He said with a chuckle before snatching the scythe from Jack's hands. "Don't worry yourself over me. I'm an expert."

"Well, if I can't help you, isn't there someone who can? You can't reap every soul yourself."

"Of course I couldn't." He agreed, looking over a row of clocks on the wall. "That's what my children are for." A weak smile formed on his face before he hid it completely with his hood. "Be good, son. I'll be back in a little while."

"Wait!" Jack tried to get his attention, but Death had already stepped outside. He stood very still, staring at the front door and listening to Twilights hoofs slam against the ground. Death was such a puzzling old ghoul. He had Jack worried sick, but then again, he had been reaping a long, _long_ time. If he was chosen for the sworn duty to manage the deceased, he must be able to handle it...

Why did Death always have leave him with a million questions? Jack sighed heavily as he flopped on the couch. "Great, another twenty-four hours to tic by..." He rubbed his chin in thought, desperate to think of something before boredom set in. It occurred to him Zephaniah was in fact looking for him right now. Jack shuddered, attempting to shake that dreaded thought.

"I need to take a walk. My head still feels stuffed..."

a/n: I promise the upcoming chapters will be more interesting. Thanks for the reviews. Later, rock on.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Reconnaissance

Disclaimer: It is my duty to inform you that I do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas. Okay, I did it, now give me a little treat, dammit!

a/n: Thank you all for reviewing! This is the first fic I've written where I don't have to beg people to leave comments. It makes me so happy. Okay, as promised, this chapter will be more interesting. So, here it is...

The forest wasn't quite so gloomy while the early jack-o-lantern sun shined. Jack made sure to cut a notch in a tree trunk about every twenty feet so he could find his way back to the shack. He had yet to come across anything dangerous. He was starting to wonder if Death was pulling his leg about the whole 'the woods are filled with danger' thing.

The only beings he had come across so far were squawking crows perched up in the trees. Eventually, he came to a clearing where a murky river flowed through. He knelt down to wash the nymph dust off his face. The moment his bones became clean again, he head began to clear. Feeling at ease for the first time in..._forever_, Jack took a seat against a withered oak. He hummed a dirge quietly to himself as colorful autumn leaves flew by in the wind.

Jack began to feel a little homesick. Halloween was less than a week away and he had no hope of participating in the frights, festivities or the finale this year- not unless he wanted to run into Zephaniah anyways. He drove his disappointment off with a sigh. There were worse things than missing Halloween once, he supposed. "I'll make up for it tenfold when I'm king." He assured himself.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a branch snapping. Jack looked around frantically until he finally noticed a something staring down at him from the tree across the stream. He froze, trying to study the thing's features. Its body was hunched, giving it a bulky appearance, but in truth, it was almost as thin as Jack was.

Its was bare aside from a tattered black cloth held up by a rusty chain around its waist. Its pinkish-grey skin clung tightly to its bones. It had talon-like hands and feet along with bat wings protruding from its back and connecting to its arms. Was it a gargoyle? No...Its skin failed to cover its human-like skull, which lacked a mandible, but was equipped with a set of long, jagged canines.

"Oh no" Jack gasped the moment he realized it was a slith who was stalking him. He made a dash for the woods. After a loud screech, the slith swooped down and followed.

Jack tried to weave in and out of the trees, but that didn't shake it. The slith was too aerodynamic in flight. It reached out to grab Jack by his braid, but he ducked and the slith flew stomach first into a branch. With the ten seconds that bought him, Jack raced off in the opposite direction. The area was condensed with thorn bushes and gnarled, dieing trees. He hoped to hide there, but eventually the slith sniffed him out and began strike again. Jack dropped to the ground and crawled. Thorns barely fazed him, but kept the slith at bay.

If he stuck to the woods, the slith couldn't dive at him, so that's just what he did. Jack followed the notches he had carved to the shack. He stopped just before he stepped out into the clearing. He had at least thirty feet to go before he could reach the door. Would he chance it? Again, the slith screeched and began to circle him overhead like a buzzard.

He had no choice; he had to try. Jack took a deep breath before sprinting towards the door. The slith swooped down after him. The door handle was inches within reach. Jack reached out, ready to take cover, when he felt himself being ripped off the ground.

The slith held him tightly by its feet as it flew off. Jack kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. He looked to the ground that was a mile beneath him and began to panic. "PUT ME DOWN!" He ordered, but it sounded more like begging. "PUT ME DOWN! LET GO!"

The slith looked down at him with its head cocked. Confused, it released its hold, allowing Jack to plummet towards the ground. Jack screamed, clenching his eye sockets shut to brace himself before getting shattered into two hundred pieces. He never hit the ground. The slith grabbed him again.

Jack slowly opened his eyes and looked up. The slith appeared to be snickering. "THAT WASN'T FUNNY!"

Feeling more angry now than frightened, Jack managed to jerk one arm free. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his mother's bat head brooch. He took the pin and jabbed it over and over again into the slith's foot. The slith cried out in pain. Unable to maintain its flapping motion, it started to lose altitude, but refused to drop Jack.

Eventually, they hit the ground, rolling. Jack broke free and pounced on the slith; punching it and attempting to strangle it as they tumbled own the hill. The slith slapped Jack with his wings and attempted to knee him in the pelvis, but never very hard. They reached the bottom of the hill, still fighting until they stumbled into a cave.

Jack had the slith pinned in the grimy cave bed. He looked around, but did not remove his hands from its throat. The cave was very odd. The formation of the walls did not look natural. The stone was smooth, wet, and gave off a silver, ice-like hue. There wasn't a single bat to be seen. "W-where are we? What is this?"

"I don't know..." Coughing, the slith pushed Jack off him. "You don't play fair." It said in a raspy voice as he rubbed his punctured foot.

Jack stared blankly at it for a moment. The slith returned the gesture, but cocked its skull every so often. Jack broke the silence with a sigh. "What do you want? Who sent you?"

"Master."

"Who is 'master'?"

"Thannen."

Jack froze. Thannen was one of the higher warlocks who worked for Zephaniah. "They must have summoned this thing to hunt me down." He thought. What a dirty trick! Slith rising had been outlawed in Halloween Town since 1580. All sliths summoned prior had been banished to the outskirts of town or executed. "When your master beckoned you, who else was with him?"

The slith scratched its scalp as it struggled to think. "More like master and a skeleton like you, but bigger. They're looking for you. I'm supposed to tell master you're here."

"You can't!" Jack protested, his voice echoing off the damp cave walls.

The slith staggered back. "But I must. I have to complete my mission for master."

"I know you want to please your master, but you can't tell them where I am!"

"Will it spoil the game?"

"What...?" Jack gave the slith a closer look. It must have been freshly hatched. Its skin wasn't so leathery and its skull was still white. It had no idea what was really going on. "Um, yes, it will spoil the game. You see, that big skeleton is my father and he's using you and your master to cheat."

"Oh..." The slith nodded with a playful glint in his eye socket as it stood erect. "Don't worry" It said, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I don't cheat."

"Good...Let's get out of here, shall we?" Jack grabbed the slith by its wings to escort him out. After taking five steps, he realized they were getting no closer to the exit. Jack looked back. "What are you doing?"

"I'm stuck."

"Stuck? Stuck on what?" He dropped to his knees and inspected the slith's feet. "I think you're caught on a rope or something. Hold tight, I'll find something to cut it."

Jack crawled around the dark, looking for a sharp rock. What he found instead was a large pile of bones wrapped inside sticky silk webbing. He gasped and looked back at the slith. Just beyond him in the shadows were two rows of six yellow eyes staring at them. "LOOK OUT!"

Before the slith could react, he was snatched up by a seven-foot black widow woman. Jack ran to its aid, but was restrained by the other widow. The spider women gagged the slith so it would stop screaming. They tightly wrapped four arms around each of them so they wouldn't struggle.

"This one is juicy." The widow holding the slith stated, giggling. The slith whimpered as she scratched its chest, drawing black, gunk-like blood. "Matriarch will be pleased. What a delicacy!"

"Leave it alone!" Jack ordered.

"SILENCE!" The widow trapping him hissed. "What of this one? He has no meat, no blood, nothing."

"Throw him away. He is no use for Matriarch."

The widow was hesitant. "He could make good broth." She suggested, holding Jack up. "Look, he's one big soup bone."

"I SAID TOSS HIM!" The widow hissed.

She dismissed Jack with a snort before chucking him towards the exit.

"Oh..." Jack rubbed his sore head as he stood. He watched in horror as the spider women carried the slith off into darkness. "DROP IT!" He shouted before chucking a rock at them.

The widows turned around, staring daggers into Jack. "Run along!" One hissed.

"Or we'll be forced to crush you." Added the other.

"I'm not letting you have the slith!" Jack said firmly. "I'll take him from you, if I have to."

The widows inched toward Jack, fangs salivating. "How do you intend to do that? You are outnumbered."

"True, but I'm resourceful." In the blink of an eye, Jack dropped to the ground and grabbed the thickest discarded bone he could and then slammed it against the side of the cave walls.

Jagged chunks of stone broke off the ceiling and landed right on the widow's backs. It didn't crush them as Jack had hopped, but at least it knocked them out. The slith struggled to crawl out from under the widow. Jack grabbed its hand and pulled it free. "Are you alright?" He whispered.

The slith nodded yes. They immediately ran (or in the slith's case, flew) for the woods and didn't stop until they reached the stream. Jack collapsed to his knees and sighed towards the sky with relief. "That was close, too close...I think we're safe now!" he announced, looking about. "Come on down!"

The slith glided towards the ground, landing in a kneeling position. Jack grinned at it. It seemed so menacing when it stalked him in the air, but on the ground, the slith looked so timid. "You saved me." It said with a shaky voice. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I-OMPH!"

The slith gave Jack a big bear hug, engulfing him in its wings. "I didn't even have to ask! You're the best friend ever, uh...um..."

"My name's Jack" He just barely managed to say with such intense pressure on his ribcage.

"Jack..." It repeated before finally dropping him to his feet.

"Thanks..." Jack paused to smooth down his hair. "I'm sorry; I didn't get the chance to ask earlier. What's your name?"

"Beast."

"That can't be your name. What's your real name?"

The slith struggled to think. "Stooge?"

"No, no, those are insults, not names. You're master didn't name you?"

It shrugged. "I guess he couldn't think of one."

"Well, what would you like your name to be?"

"Um...Jack!"

"No, you can't be Jack too. That would get confusing. How about...I don't know...Markus?"

It shook its head no.

"Oh, I know! Edgar."

Again, it shook his head no.

"Um...Pete? Scott? Adam?"

It turned down all three with a disapproving "Bleh."

Jack studied its face carefully. This slith was a playful fellow. It probably wanted to be called something exciting or unusual. "Vance? How does Vance sound to you?"

The slith nodded happily. "I like that name."

"Alright, we'll go with Vance." Jack couldn't help but feel sorry for the scrawny thing while he shook its hand. He now understood why witches and warlocks were forbidden to hatch sliths. They never cared about or for them, only barked orders at them and then abandoned them once their mission was over. Only feral sliths caused any harm, not because they were evil or demonic. They just tend to panic easily.

Vance gave Jack one last hug before spreading its wings and leaping into the air. "Thank you again, Jack. We'll have to be more careful next game."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Home to master."

Jack's eye sockets widened. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I don't cheat." Vance was about to take off when Jack grabbed his leg and pulled him back to the ground.

"What was that for?" Vance hissed.

"You can't go back to Halloween! You can't tell anyone what happened!" Jack warned, clutching Vance's shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because you're not supposed to exist that's why! My father and your master are going to crush your skull in the moment they feel you're no longer useful to them. They'll have to or the whole town will know the pumpkin king was illegally summoning sliths. I know Zephaniah; it isn't beneath him to do such a thing."

Vance stared at him blankly for a moment. It pushed Jack off him and leapt back into the air. "Master will take care of me." It assured him. "He'll be mad when I tell him nothing, but that just means he'll send me back and then we can play again. I'll tell him my new name! He'll be proud of me!"

"STOP! DON'T GO! **PLEASE**!" Jack soon gave up chasing after it. He watched teary-eyed as Vance flew away. It waved down at him excitedly. Jack waved back, but could not share its enthusiasm. He wished he could have convinced Vance to stay, but a slith's nature is irreversible. Above all, it obeys its master...

Jack waited until he was back inside the shack before he started to weep. If Vance confessed Jack's whereabouts, maybe Thannen and Zephaniah would let it live. He wouldn't mind getting dragged back home as long as Vance was safe. Maybe they would just lock it up somewhere in the catacombs. That idea made Jack even sadder. Vance didn't deserve either fate. It wasn't mindless or dangerous or bothersome, it was his friend.

Jack had never felt so guilty in his afterlife. If he hadn't of ran away, Zephaniah would have never sent a slith after him and Vance wouldn't have had to die. After ten minutes or so, he forced himself to calm down. "It's too soon to mourn." He told himself. "It isn't crushed yet. They might not execute it. They might send it back here like it said...Maybe it'll escape on its own..." Jack wiped away his tears with his sleeve. "I'll give Vance two weeks. I should spot some sign of it by then. After that..." Jack didn't want to say it aloud, but after two weeks, all hope for Vance was lost.

a/n: Um, I play a lot of Magic the Gathering, if anyone's wondering where in the Hell I came up with this crap. A baby slith is about the size of a teenaged boy, just to clarify. Thanks for reading. Well, I'm off to finish my English final now...WAAAAAA!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A Ghoul's Best Friend

Disclaimer: Did you know I do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas? Well, now you know, 'cause knowledge is power! Woo!

The weeks came and went. Halloween had passed Jack by. He neither found nor heard any trace of Vance. By November 5th, Jack concluded that his poor slith friend was dead. He became severely depressed over it. No longer willing to go outside, Jack stayed on the couch with his knees hugged to his chest. He would only get up to clean every so often or to greet Death with a freshly lit cigar whenever he came home from reaping. He never mentioned what had happened out in the forest so not to worry the ancient skeleton. In fact, he barely said a word at all...

After observing this behavior for many weeks, Death became concerned. At first he dismissed Jack's moping as a childish display for attention or just laziness, but he soon realized this wasn't the case. Disheartened, he thought of a way to cheer the young skeleton up.

After a long day and half of reaping, death waltzed through door to find Jack still sprawled on the couch. "Careful Jack" Death playfully warned as he approached the couch. "You'll waste away to dust if you spend too much time on the sofa. Why don't you go outside? The weather's nice and dreary."

Jack shrugged. "I'm not in the mood."

"My God boy, you're collecting cobwebs! What part of living dead do you not grasp? Outside with you- now!" he ordered, pointing to the door.

Jack sat upright, but was hesitant to leave. A part of him feared running into another slith along with the part of him that mourned the first one. "What's the point? I can have no one to talk to in here just as easily as out there."

Death sighed heavily as he set his hand on Jack's shoulder. "I know I haven't been around very much lately, and I'm sorry, but spending all night and day sulking is doing you no good. Come with me. I have a surprise for you..."

Death pulled Jack to his feet by his shirt collar and escorted him outside. Jack's steps were unsteady at first, but he quickly regained his balance. He eyed the ancient skeleton closely. Something about him looked different. He seemed...shorter. Suddenly it occurred to Jack he had grown another couple of inches. "Splendid-" He mumbled under his breath as Death led him through the trees. "-As if I didn't look like a pole already."

Death pulled down his hood, allowing a crisp autumn breeze to blow on his face. "See? I told you it was nice out."

Jack looked around apathetically. "What were you planning on showing me?"

Death smirked. "This..." Death tapped the ground with the handle of his scythe three times. Seconds later, a spectral mist floated up out of the dirt and began to take shape.

Jack backed away, struggling to decipher its form. His eye sockets widened as he heard a faint yelp. The mist partially solidified into a cute little translucent dog with a glowing jack-o-lantern nose. He hovered in circles, inspecting his surroundings. The moment he spotted Jack he yipped happily then floated right over to him and began to dance around his feet.

Jack laughed. "A ghost dog? Wherever did you reap him from?"

"I found him under a bolder out in the desert somewhere." Death knelt down and patted the dog on the head. "Poor boy was flat as a pancake. I could hardly tell what breed he was. I think he's a beagle, maybe a dachshund."

"He's a good boy, hu? Yes, you're a good dog!" Jack cooed as he scratched behind the dog's long, floppy ears. "May I keep him? Please? I've never had my own pet."

"He's all yours. Just make sure he doesn't chew up anything."

"Yes!" He cheered ecstatically. The dog concurred with a pleased howl. "Thank you! He's so amazing...Now, what to call you..." Jack rubbed his chin in thought. The dog stared up at him, patiently. "Zero" He declared after much consideration. "His name's Zero."

Death raised a brow at him. "Why Zero?"

"Because there's hardly anything to him." Jack explained with a smirk. "Come on boy, fetch!" He grabbed a twig off a tree and tossed it in the distance. Zero didn't chase after it, only gave Jack a blank stare. "Come on boy! Fetch! Go get it!...Um...?"

"Hold on a moment, son. Let me try something..." Death reached into his robe and pulled out his spare rib. He waved it in front of Zero's nose then tossed it.

Zero had dashed off and returned with Death's rib in a flash. The skeletons shared a laugh. "I think he's strictly a bone retriever."

"Alright, that will work..." Jack reached into his shirt and pulled out his spare rib. "Come on, Zero. Fetch!" He tossed it once and Zero was hooked. They played fetch until their arms were nearly about to fall off.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Zero followed Jack wherever he went. Jack taught him how to speak, how to sniff out and track things, how to fetch other things besides his spare rib and how to bark at people he didn't like. When Jack slept, Zero slept. When Jack sang or practiced his screeching, Zero howled along with him. When he felt sad or lonely, Zero was there to sit on his lap and lick his cheek. He guarded the shack and encouraged Jack to play with him constantly. Death was very pleased with how well they bonded and how much happier Jack became. He no longer worried about leaving Jack alone so much.

Although he kept Vance in the back of his mind always, Zero helped Jack cope. That little ghost dog was the best friend he could have asked for. Most importantly, Zephaniah would never be able to harm him...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Patriarch Overthrown

Disclaimer: The Nightmare Before Christmas is not mine in any way shape or form. No, not even in that way...you sick-os...Tee hee, I'm kidding.

It was early morning. The sun had not risen yet and wouldn't for another hour or so. Death sat cozily in his armchair, jotting down the records of yesterday's soul count in a huge, ratty notebook. He squinted through his reading glasses, struggling to work by candlelight. Every so often, he would glance up at the couch where Jack laid sound asleep with Zero at his feet. Jack looked so peaceful wrapped in an old blanket, dressed in one of his spare robes. He was such a sound, still sleeper; his corpse of a body looked as if it lacked any spirit at all.

He had grown to love Jack as his own, this, the ancient skeleton was certain. The boy not only worked wonders around the shack, keeping it tidy and organized, but he also provided much desired company. The Grim Reaper was such a lonely title. Death couldn't remember the last time he had someone to talk to before Jack came along, at least, no one who was glad to see him anyways. Jack seemed to love him in return. He did everything in his power to make sure he had cigar and a relaxed atmosphere to sit and smoke it in every day, no matter what ungodly hour he returned home in. Jack washed his robes, fetched him whatever he asked for right when he asked it and always obeyed his rules. Even reaping became slightly easier. With Jack keeping all his paperwork in order, he was able to take ten-minute naps every other day, a privilege he had been denied for almost six thousand years...

Death paused, causing his pen to leave a blot on the page. He suddenly felt very sad. He knew one day Jack would be completely grown and have to leave him. He understood the pumpkin king crown must be passed on eventually, but still, the idea of losing Jack brought him down. Until then, Jack was his son and he dared anyone to take him away.

All of a sudden, there came a knock at the door. Startled, Death jumped in his chair and scrambled for his scythe. The knocking continued. "One Moment!" He whispered. Death made sure Jack was still asleep before answering.

Leaning on the doorway was Zephaniah, capeless, weary, and disheveled. Death stared at him, shocked by the mess of a pumpkin king that stood before him. He couldn't believe how haggard and decayed Zephaniah looked.

"Death, I hate to trouble you, especially so early in the morning, but have you seen John anywhere recently? I've been searching all over-"

Death shushed him. "Don't fret, son, John is safe. He's with me." He informed him as he gently shut the door. He looked ol' Zephaniah over carefully. He had been drinking. The smell of wine was on his breath.

"Oh thank-" Zephaniah trailed off. "It would have been nice if you would have told me sooner."

"You know how busy I am." He sneered. "Besides, I wasn't sure if telling you was such a good idea."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Zephaniah demanded, putting his hands on his hips. "I don't know what John has told you, but-"

"Spare me, Zeph! I don't want to hear it."

"He's a difficult boy-"

Death held his hand up to silence him. "I'm very disappointed in you...Stop and look at yourself for just a moment! To think, a ghoul of your caliber could sink so low...Tell me the truth. Have you been shirking your duties, neglecting yourself and John, drinking heavily?"

Zephaniah looked to his feet. He didn't know how to react. He wasn't used to having to show respect, only receiving it. "John has been lying...overexaggerating. Could you honestly say you could hold up any better in my position?"

Death grunted as he shook his head. "It is not my place to judge...Just...get in there and talk to your son." He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Zephaniah to enter.

Zephaniah staggered a bit, stumbling over furniture on his way towards the couch. "John...John, its me. Wake up..." He whispered, nudging Jack gently on the shoulder.

Jack stirred. He glanced up to the sight of his fathers face leering over him. "DAD!" He gasped, nearly falling to the floor as he sat upright.

Zero began to growl. Zephaniah backed up. "Send that thing away!" He demanded. "I have been chased by too many dogs!"

"Down Zero" Jack ordered. "Down boy, go in the other room."

Reluctantly, Zero hovered off to Death's office, snarling at Zephaniah along the way. Feeling more at ease with Zero gone, Zephaniah pulled a box of cigars from his doublet. Jack watched him, keeping stone stiff as his father nervously lit the cigar and took a puff. "Feeling groggy?" He asked calmly.

"I was up late cleaning...H-how did you know I was here?"

"I've been searching high and low for you. This was the last place I thought to check."

Jack began to fidget with his pillow. "You don't seem angry..."

"I am," He admitted. "But I'm just so relieved you're alright I..." Completely unnerved, he clutched his collar. "How could you do this to me? Did I really deserve this?"

Jack adjusted his loosely fit robe before it fell completely off his shoulder. "I had no choice."

"You could have came and spoke to me."

"You're always too drunk to listen! That morning was the first I can remember where I found you sober! You probably knocked down a few glasses on the way over here! The only reason you're not going berserk is because Death is right outside."

"John, I-"

"Dad, I've tried talking to you, but you...You've changed, you've changed into something terrible and I can't help you, so I'm staying away from you. All you do is rant and rave a-and lash out at me. It was either flee or sit there like an old bitch and let you beat me senseless...I can't live like that, I don't deserve it!"

Jack clenched his eye sockets shut, expecting a brutal thrashing, but to his relief, Zephaniah did not raise his hand. He looked to his father and studied his expression. The old skeleton stared back at him with such a sad, intense look. "Is it really that bad at home...?"

Jack nodded yes. He slouched forward to hide oncoming tears. Zephaniah embraced him, allowing him to rest his head on his chest. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear it...I promise, things will change for the better." He said softly, running his fingers over Jack's hair. "Hence forth, no more wallowing in self pity. I may be a king without a queen, but I'm still a king none the less and by God, I'm going to act like it! You've grown so much this past month alone...I don't wish for us to spend the rest of your childhood fighting. Please John, give me a second chance. Come home."

Jack sat up to make sure he could look Zephaniah square in the eye sockets. "You'll spend more time focusing on Halloween and less on your buildings? You'll finish giving me my fright lessons? You'll quit drinking?"

Zephaniah put his right hand over his heart area and raised his left. "If I feel I must drink, I will never pour a glass until nightfall and I will be sure to stop at two glasses. You have my word."

"Your word is no good with two glasses of wine down your throat..." He hissed under his breath.

"What?"

"Your word is no good with two glasses of wine down your throat!" Jack repeated, shouting. "I waited fourteen years for you to cut down! Mom waited much longer! You know, I'm not angry that she left- not anymore! I'm angry that she didn't take me with her! At least I wised up and left too- and to think, I was almost foolish enough to believe you just then!"

Nearly driven to tears, Zephaniah stood and glared down at Jack, furious. "So...the truth reveals itself...I never dreamed you would grow up to hate me, oh but how I should have foreseen it! You're just like your mother, John! **Always** looking down on me, **always** expecting the worst of me! Maybe in a few years when _you're_ king, you'll finally understand what I suffered through! Well, FINE- so be it! Hate me! Hate me as much as you'd like! Hate me until you explode for all I care! You can hate me back at the castle where you can't sneak off and spread such shameful rumors about me, you little _**snake**_!"

Enraged, Zephaniah put his cigar out on Jack's face and forced him to his feet by his hair. The very second he yelped, Zero came charging in and the door burst open. "ZEPH!" Death yelled, aiming his scythe right between Zephaniah's eye sockets. "Unhand him..."

Zephaniah looked at the blade, then down at the growling ghost dog and decided to drop Jack on the couch. He stuck out his chin and adjusted his doublet in some poor attempt to regain some regal dignity. "Very well...I'll see myself out."

Jack pulled a pillow out in front of him until Zephaniah trudged out the door completely. Death yanked him back to the door by his arm. "Where do you think you're going?" He snapped. "Get back in there, apologize, and talk this out with him!"

A tear rolled down Zephaniah's cheek. "You heard the boy. He hates me."

"My God, son, can you blame him? You're behaving like an ass! Listen to me! If there was ever a time in John's life when he really needed you to be there for him, its _now_! Do not simply walk away from this!"

Zephaniah sighed. "He's made his decision and I've made mine...Are you satisfied, Death? Was it a victory, luring my son over to your side? Has it made up for what you lost?"

"Zeph..."

Zephaniah jerked his arm free and returned to his half-skeleton horse. As he rode away, the jack-o-lantern sun just barely peaked over the horizon. Death breathed a heavy, defeated sigh before returning inside. Jack looked to him anxiously behind the pillow. "He's gone." Death announced.

Jack began to laugh. Shortly there after he buried his face in his pillow and sobbed. Zero nudged his arm with his snout to comfort him, but it didn't do any good. Death sat beside him and put his arm around Jack's shoulder. "I'm sorry about all this, son, I really am."

Jack sniffed back his tears. "Well, I talked to him. Are you happy?"

"You could have been more reasonable." He insisted, rubbing the burn mark off Jack's cheekbone. "You didn't give him a chance."

"He's been given enough chances!" Jack cried. "He's ruined enough lives, I'm not letting him ruin mine."

"Pull yourself together, Jack." Death begged. "I know how frustrated you are. I'm frustrated too. This is hard for me. I used to watch over your father when he was just a lumpling. We're very close, or we were...I feel as though I'm caught in the middle here. No matter what decision I make or which one of you I try to help, I'm hurting someone, do you understand?"

Jack nodded, forcing his breathing to regulate. He found petting Zero helped him unwind. "It looks like I won't be welcomed at Castle Skellington any time soon..."

"I would think not...No matter. I think your living arrangements here are working out just fine."

Jack smiled. "With all the trouble that follows me I...just wanted to make sure I wasn't overstaying my welcome."

Death chuckled. "Not at all, son." He gave Jack one last pat on the back before pulling himself to his feet. "Why don't you try to get back to sleep? I have to run anyways; the bell is tolling."

"Sound's good..." Jack yawned, stretching. "See you after your shift." He rolled over and wrapped himself back up in the blanket. Zero took his rightful place, nestled at Jack's feet.

Death looked down at him, affectionately. "I wouldn't have let him hurt you, Jack, never."

"I know...Thank you." Of course he knew. He never doubted it for a second. He yawned deeply as he squirmed to get comfortable. "Goodnight."

"Sleep well..." Death walked over to the wall and inspected a clock with eagle-like awareness. As the minute hand ticked by, Zephaniah's last words replayed in his head.

_"Has it made up for what you lost?"_

Death shook the voice from his mind and pulled himself back into reality. He grabbed his scythe and rushed out the door where Twilight waited patiently for him. When he settled into riding position, he kicked her side, instantly signaling her off. With one hand, he clutched his scythe, with the other, the reins. It was time to ride, time to reap. There was no time dwell on the memories of the clock. Yes indeed, the bell was tolling like it eventually did for everyone. He would get away with it for now, but if there was one thing Death knew, it was you can't ignore the clock forever...

a/n: I decided to go ahead and post this chapter because six was so short. Man, if I had known a Jack origin fic would have been such a hit, I would have written this one first. The story is going to really start picking up here. I intend to cover all the bases. So psyched about this one. Thanks for reading guys, rock on.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Horsemen

Disclaimer: I do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas. I couldn't possibly. I'm too narrow-minded, bigoted, ignorant and uncaring to ever comprehend the dark spooky complexities of Nightmare Before Christmas or the trials and tribulations of its characters or its fan base, ooooooh... Okay, whatever roomie...PS: this was not directed towards any of my readers or any of my little internet buddies. I was ranting about someone you've never met or would care to know. Ignore me, read on.

Jack sat against the side of the shack, watching Zero play in the pile of leaves he just raked. It was past noon and Death hadn't returned yet. It was drawing over thirty-six hours since he had left. Jack decided to give him another four hours before he started worrying.

Suddenly Zero stopped yipping. He sniffed the air then hovered over to Jack, whimpering. "What's the matter, boy?" Jack asked, scratching behind his ears. "Did you see something?"

Jack looked around. He didn't see anything besides withered trees, but he could certainly hear something- something loud. It was a heavy thumping against the ground. He smiled down at Zero. "It's okay, boy. It's just Twilight. I know...that horse gives me the bad creeps too."

Zero buried his head in Jack's side. Jack became nervous. Surely, Zero would recognize Death by now. Something was wrong. A horse was in the forest, but it wasn't Twilight. "Come on, boy, let's go inside..."

The moment he climbed to his feet a second set of hoofs was heard trampling towards the shack then a third set of hoofs. The sky dimmed to near nightfall. The galloping became louder as the three horses and their riders approached.

The first to reveal itself was a massive red horse, bigger and more muscular than a Clydesdale. It was armored with steel, carrying many heavy bundles and an arsenals worth of weaponry. Its rider was a skeleton with dazzling white bones as dense as led. He too was armored with a black crescent helmet lined with nickel, matching studded shoulder plates and gauntlets. Strapped across his chest was a strip of leather armed with throwing knives. In the sheath tied to his waist by a thick belt was a large, ancient sword. On his feet were chunky black boots made from leather and wolf's hide. Jack froze, unable to stop staring no matter how loudly Zero barked.

The next to arrive was a skinny black horse with an even skinnier skeleton astride it. This skeleton and his horse were much less flashy than the first. His bones were willowy, brittle and faded dull grey. Clinging to his scalp was a mess of salt and pepper hair falling over his face. He wore only a pair of cheap burlap slacks frayed at the ends and tied around his incredibly narrow pelvis by a rope. On his back, he carried a strange crooked bow and six black arrows. This skeleton looked so weary, he could barely sit upright as he steered his horse, which kept his head low to the ground.

The third skeleton appeared on a pale, cream-colored horse. It's mane was long and flowed haphazardly as it galloped. Its rider, a smaller skeleton than the first two, looked to be ill. His bones were stained yellow, worse so than Death's. Several limbs were busted and a few of his teeth were missing, but he still managed to hold up a heavy set of iron scales. His hair, which was tied back, was white and longer than any head of hair Jack had ever seen. Like the grey skeleton, the sickly skeleton was scantily clad, wearing only a tattered black strip of cloth over his chest. With one hand, he held the reins and with the other, smoked a cigar.

The skeletons met in front of the shack at the same time. They hopped down from their horses and tied them to the post. "You two are slow" The big skeleton sneered. "What took you?"

"Mind your own business!" The sickly one hissed, or wheezed rather. He looked to the thinnest skeleton, vexed. "YOU" He snarled, shaking the scales. "Take these worthless things back, you rat and fork over my bow!"

"Why do the rest of you get to carry the interesting items?" He whined. "I want to carry a real weapon for once!"

"I've had to lug these things around for six hundred years and I won't do it a moment longer! Now, give me my bow!"

"NO!"

The bigger skeleton snuck up behind him and put him in a chokehold, allowing the sickly skeleton to beat him over the head with his scales, causing a loud _**clang**_ with each blow. Jack blinked twice in disbelief as the skeletons mercilessly quarreled amongst each other. They acted like lumplings, in fact, they looked to be no older than sixteen. He approached them cautiously, motioning for Zero to stay behind.

"Um...excuse me..."

They didn't hear him. They didn't even notice he was standing there. "Weak! Blundering! Incompetent, both of you! You make me **sick**!" The big one shouted in their faces before drawing his sword in the air. "Stand in attention, before I obliterate you!"

"Excuse me...!"

"You're not in command here!" The thinnest one cried back. "You just can't bark orders!"

"EXCUSE ME!"

"Be silent, you wretch! I'm not through with you!" The sickly one sneered, slapping him once again.

"**EXCUSE ME**!"

Finally, he caught their attention. Jack jumped back as they stared at him with deep, threatening eye sockets. "Um...Hello..." Jack began, clearing his throat. "W-who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Who are we?" The big skeleton chuckled. "The better question is who are you?"

"I'm Jack, Jack Skellington of Halloween town." He bowed to them out of sheer force of habit. "The pumpkin prince and I-"

The others laughed at him hysterically. "You, the pumpkin prince?" The skinny one cried. "You must be joking!"

The thinnest exhaled a cloud of smoke in Jack's face. "Now, now, lets show some respect for the little dandy." He snickered as he ran his finger bones down Jack's sternum in a manner that made his nonexistent skin crawl. "After all, he's from a long line of _scary_ ghouls."

"Ha! Is this really the scariest being this insignificant blot on the universe has to offer?" The big skeleton sneered, holding the tip of his blade under Jack's chin. "Look at this one, pathetic…Weak jaw line, submissive voice, unintimidating stance, why...there isn't a frightening bone in that quivering beanstalk you call a body."

Again, the others laughed. Jack growled under his breath as he shoved the blade away from his face. He wanted to screech in their smug faces so badly. The only thing holding him back was his curiosity. "That's enough!" He shouted. "May I help you?"

"Perhaps." The skinniest one answered. "Can you tell us where Death has gone moping about this time? He's late."

"Yes, where is the decrepit old bastard?" The sickly one added. "Just once, I would like to make a trip out here that didn't waste my time."

Jack stared at them in disbelief. He had never heard anyone speak that way about Death, nor would like to ever again. "That depends, who's asking?"

"Look, beanstalk-" The big one growled as he took Jack by the throat. "This is MY-" He paused when he realized the other skeletons were glaring at him. "_Our_ territory! We will ask the questions, not you! Tell us where that doddering bag of bones is or we'll-"

"What's going on, fellows?"

The big skeleton dropped Jack on the ground. Everyone turned around o find Death had just pulled up on Twilight. "Hello everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully. "I see you've all met Jack."

"Yes, we've met him-omh!" Death gave the skinny one a big hug. The sickly one tried to escape, but Death pulled him into the hug as well. He reached out for the big skeleton. But he held up his hand, signaling for death to halt.

"For the last time, old man, I **do not** hug!"

"Sorry. I keep forgetting, you've grown too old of such things..." Death substituted the hug for a salute.

Grimacing, the big skeleton returned the gesture.

Jack picked himself off the ground and ran over to them. "Death, what's going on? These three were looking for you and-"

"You didn't introduce yourselves?" He sighed, but didn't drop his smile. "Jack, I'd like you to meet the family. These are my sons, War and Famine and my little girl, Pestilence. We're a team you know, the Four Horsemen they call us. Say hello, children. Don't be rude."

"Hello Jack..." They parroted irritably.

Jack's legs began to wobble. Death's_ children_? Four Horsemen? Pestilence, a _girl_? A million questions formed in his head at once. All he could say aloud was "I- uh- they- you-?"

"Everyone, come inside!" Death offered as he pushed them towards the door. "We have so much to catch up on..."

a/n: I screwed up in a pic I drew for the horsemen's character designs by drawing Famine with the bow and arrows, so I thought I'd cover my ass with an explanation in the fic. I'm so happy with all the feedback I've been getting. Thanks so much guys, you rule!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Dinner Discussions

Disclaimer: I no own Nightmare Before Christmas unga bunga...I ran out of material, okay? Who are you to judge me?

"War, no armor inside the house." Death reminded him.

War grumbled, but did as instructed. He threw his helmet and shoulder plates to Jack much harder than necessary. "Don't scratch those, beanstalk. I'm going back out to unload Victory." He announced. "I'll bring in the food."

Death smiled. "Wonderful! I could really go for some dinner. Pestilence, dear, set the table."

Pestilence gave War a hateful scowl as he waltzed towards the door. "Leave me in here to listen to the old bastard by myself, why don't you?"

"That was the plan" He replied with a chuckle.

Jack set War's armor on the shelf and joined the others in the kitchen. "I'll give you a hand." He offered.

"How sweet of you prince, helping a damsel in distress..." Pestilence sneered sarcastically as she handed Jack the silverware.

Jack cringed. "Some damsel you are..." He thought to himself as he set the forks, spoons, and knives in their proper place. The longer he had to stay near the three horsemen, the more and more uncomfortable he became. He ignored their hostility for Death's sake, however. "Famine!" He called into the living room. "Would you clear off the counters?"

"Too tired!" He refused, while sprawling out on the couch, clutching his torso. "Make War do it!"

Jack was about to nag him, but Death placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just let him rest. Famine has no use for dinner time."

War returned with all the edible plunder he had gathered during his travels. Death sat at the head of the table while his children gathered around him. Jack poked at his food with his fork, more interested in the conversation than the meal. It felt weird sitting down to dinner at the shack. Death had never been home long enough to have a real meal, but he was making sure he had a chance to sit and eat now...

"My, six centuries goes by quickly, doesn't it?" Death asked in an attempt to break the silence and vexed glares going back and forth around the table. "I've missed you all terribly. Have any of you-"

"Let's get down to business" War interrupted, swallowing a mouthful of food. "Here is-"

"But you just got here...Can't we just sit and have a meal before we go over the quota?"

"We don't intend to stay long, old man. We haven't the time, nor the patience to stand this place for more than three days, so lets get this over with and-"

"Couldn't you stay a little longer? You know I never get to see you and I think it would do us good to spend time together. Is that so much to ask...?"

The horsemen did not respond, only gritted their teeth in annoyance.

Death sighed, disappointed. "Very well...Go on."

"Here is what I've collected" War drew out his sword and set it on the table. Upon closer look, Jack could see the thousands of souls swimming around in the black steel blade. "They are all accounted for, ready to be sorted for their final destination. Where are yours?" He asked his siblings.

Pestilence grunted. "Well, it took me a while to figure out how to work Famine's stupid scales, but all who fall under my jurisdiction are here and accounted for." She placed the scales on the table. Unlike before, they were full of tiny black marbles, each with a horde of souls swimming in them.

"I'm all set." Famine announced setting every arrow with a soul-filled tip in the center of the table.

Death sighed. "I'm glad to see you've all kept busy."

"Hardly" War scoffed. "Pestilence is slacking."

"Am not!" She cried. "Its this damn modern medicine! Foolish humans think they can outsmart me with penicillin!"

"They seem to be succeeding." Famine snickered.

"Oh piss off!" She wheezed. "What have you done this past century, the potato famine? Pitiful!"

"Please, please! Stop this bickering! Especially you, War! Quit trying to turn your brother and sister against each other." Death begged. "Death is not a competition, children. We go where we're needed and no further."

"Easy for you to say, old man." Famine spat. "_We've_ been picking up _your_ slack! Quite frankly, we're getting tired of it, yes?"

"Yes" War and Pestilence agreed in unison.

"So either start putting forth some damn effort or resign."

Jack slammed his fist on the table, insulted. "Wait just a moment! Who are you to-"

Death shook his head, motioning for him to stay silent. Reluctantly, Jack complied. "Well, I guess I'll just have to start working harder then, won't I?" He said with a deep, sad sigh.

Jack felt so angry he could barely creep straight. Where did these horsemen get off, treating Death that way and why did Death allow it? To keep himself from saying something rude, he shoved a huge fork full of food in his mouth and chewed slowly.

When he was able to get a word in edgewise, Jack asked questions, usually receiving sarcastic, condescending, but informative answers. The horsemen's tasks were self-explanatory, but everything else about them was so mysterious to Jack. At first, he couldn't believe any of them were related to Death, but upon closer inspection, he began to see some resemblance. Physically, War looked nothing like Death, but he certainly had his energy and work ethic. Famine and Pestilence had similar faces, but Pestilence's jaw line was daintier as was her frame and Famine's cranium was just a bit rounder. Their personalities clashed much too sharply with Death's though.

From what he could understand, War, Famine and Pestilence were born from Death's seed around the arrival of mankind in the real world, (Death of course was born upon the arrival of life in the universe). Every millennium was a half a month to the horsemen, hence their youth. Jack found this to be disturbing in a way. He himself was dead and technically immortal, but Death and his children were beyond time altogether. The concept was complicated, almost too complicated for Jack, so he settled for the simplest answers they threw at him and left it at that.

When everyone finished their meal, the four horsemen headed to Death's office to sort through their souls. Jack was left alone in the living room to wait. He knew he wasn't supposed to know anything about their work, so he didn't protest. After five hours, which seemed like an eternity, the horsemen returned.

"Sorry about that, son, but our work is confidential." Death apologized. "Would you mind helping us in the kitchen?"

Jack smiled. "No problem."

Jack, Death, and Pestilence cleaned up the kitchen while War went outside for some 'exercise'. Famine flopped back onto the couch and did absolutely nothing.

With subtly, Death observed them. Jack and Pestilence made a serious effort to stay on the opposite ends of the room from each other. He smiled when he caught Pestilence looking at Jack bending over to find a dishrag. He snuck up behind her and stroked her hair.

She gasped, startled. "What are you doing old man?"

"We really ought to do something with your hair." He suggested with a wink. "You have such a pretty bone structure, why not show it off?"

She gagged and slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare touch me!" She warned. "I don't give a shit what you think of my hair. I want it out of my face at work and that's that."

Death backed away. "But dear..." He nodded over towards Jack, who was throwing away some table scraps, oblivious to their whispering. "I think you two would go well together."

Pestilence looked as if she would puke. "Not a chance in hell or limbo!"

Jack turned around, confused. "What?"

"Nothing, dandy. Hand me the broom!"

Jack shrugged. "One moment..." He stepped into the other room to rummage through the closet.

Pestilence glared up at Death, pouting. "Don't do this to me, old man. I'm warning you... Keep you're little side kick away from me, unless you intend on ruining him too."

"If you insist..." Death gave her a playful grin. "But you must admit, he's a handsome young ghoul."

"I'll admit nothing." She sneered. "Here" Pestilence reached behind her shirt and pulled out a box of cigars. "War told me to give these to you. He snagged them while pillaging in Europe."

"Thank you dear. I could use a cigar right now. I'll be outside. Tell the others to get ready for bed."

"Fine..."

Death waited until she was in the living room before sneaking out the back door. Pestilence walked in right as Jack and the others were stripping for bed. "Dad says to rest up!" She shouted.

Startled, Jack yelped and spun around, scrambling to put on his nightshirt.

"Do you mind?" War barked. "We heard the old bastard, alright? We're getting settled now."

"Why do you have to call him that?" Jack finally mustered up the nerve to ask. "Death works just as hard as you three and he's been reaping much longer! He's your father for the Celt's sake. Why are you so hard on him?"

"Forgive us, Prince Jack, if our manners are not up to your standards." Famine sneered.

Jack scowled. "That 'old bastard' you've been badgering all evening, is the kindest ghoul in Halloween and if any of you ever had to live with a father like mine, you'd be kissing the ground he lurks on."

"Ha! You just don't know our father very well then." Famine replied.

"That kind old ghoul you think so highly of spawned us from the pain and suffering of humankind." Pestilence began.

"We are nothing but accursed oxen to plow the earth until it is sucked into oblivion!" War added. "For that, you expect us to be grateful to him? He who damned _us_ with _his_ burden since infancy! I for one hate him and there is nothing you can say that would make me feel any different."

"What about this wicked father of yours?" Pestilence inquired, smirking. "Do you really want to carry on in his footsteps?"

Jack thought carefully as he unbraided his hair. "Yes, actually, I do." He stated defiantly. "Because I know for a fact I could be a better, scarier pumpkin king than he ever was."

War laughed as he gave Jack a slap on the back. "Keep telling yourself that beanstalk. If that's the delusion that carries you on another day, so be it."

Jack clenched his fist in anger as the others snickered at him. "If you think you're so frightening, prove it!"

War grinned. "Is that a challenge?"

"Not exactly. I know when I'm outmatched. You three have been striking terror in the hearts of men for thousands of years, correct?"

"Correct."

"So you wouldn't mind showing me what your made of then?"

The horsemen exchanged questioning glances. War spoke up first. "Very well, beanstalk. We'll play your game."

"But what do we get if we win?" Famine asked.

"The satisfaction of humiliating me and the pleasure of dragging me back to Halloween Town, bound and gagged." Jack answered. "But if I go the whole day, from dusk until dawn, without showing any signs of fear, you have to stay here with Death until the end of the month and teach me every terrifying move you know."

War slammed his fist against his chest. "We accept, beanstalk. I suggest you get some rest should you hope to last three minutes with us before you run off, crying tomorrow."

Jack frowned. "We'll see..."

They all exchanged handshakes. Afterwards, they finished getting ready to bed. War claimed the floor to sleep on, Famine claimed the couch, and Pestilence claimed the armchair. Jack stood in the middle of the living room, left with nothing to rest on. "Um...where do I sleep?"

"Outside with that mutt of yours." Pestilence hissed.

"We were here first, beanstalk." War reminded him.

Famine chuckled as he rested his head on a cushion. "Sleep well, pumpkin."

Jack shook his head. "Fine...Sleep well, fellows..." He grumbled before stomping out the door.

A moonbeam illuminated his face and a chilly breeze whooshed by. Jack sighed heavily as Zero came up to greet him. He kneeled to pat him on the head. "It looks like we're staying out here tonight, boy..."

He walked around the side of the shack, looking for a spot to lay down when the smell of smoke filled his nostrils. He peeked around the corner to find Death sitting alone on the back steps. He had already smoked half the box of the cigars already and was a third of the way through with the one in his hand.

Jack approached him silently. "Are you alright?"

Death jumped, startled. "Ah-Oh...Hello, son. Y-yes, I'm alright, its just...those children keep me at wits end."

Jack sat beside him. "Come on, put those down before you make yourself sick..." he took Death's cigar and put it out. "Look, don't take offense to this, but they are spoiled rotten. How do you put up with them?"

Death looked to his lap. "They're good kids, Jack, they really are...They're strong, bright, talented...I love them with all my heart. I know they're behavior is...deplorable, but the truth is I earned their scorn."

Jack shook his head. "How?"

"Its...complicated." Death began. "You see, I had them when I was young, alright _younger_...anyways, let's just say I did not hold up well as a single parent. I've always been so preoccupied with work and...well, War started picking fights, Famine developed a nasty eating disorder, and Pestilence became seriously ill- They took their frustrations with me out on the real world, causing all sorts of havoc...I had to take responsibility for them. I had no choice but to discipline them the only way I knew how...I stripped them down to skeleton form and taught them my trade-"

"War learned to collect the souls of those who died in battle, Famine learned to collect the souls of those who died from starvation and Pestilence learned to collect the souls who died from disease." Jack finished for him.

"I let them handle what they're good at. They enjoyed it at first, maybe too much, but life and death is a constant cycle. Once you start collecting souls, you cannot stop or all hell breaks loose. You see, by forcing them to work with me I robbed the of their afterlives and they've never forgiven me for having to pay for my shortcomings. I may have gained three partners, but I lost the love and respect of my children..."

Death's hood was up, but it didn't disguise his despair. Jack put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "No you haven't. They still love you, Death." Jack assured him. "I...I just got through talking to them. They agreed to stay for the next three weeks."

Death perked up. "Really, they did? I don't know what you said to change their minds, but- Thank you!" Overjoyed, Death embraced Jack in hug.

"You're...welcome..." Jack just barely managed to gasp out.

Death released him. He stood and reached for his scythe. "They haven't gone to sleep yet, have they? I want to talk to them."

"No, er- uh, yes, they're fast asleep. They were very tired."

Death sighed. "Tomorrow then. We'll patch things up tomorrow. Tell them I'll be home soon when they wake up, won't you. I would wait up for them, but-"

"I'll let them know, don't worry."

Death gave him a warm smile. "They really are good kids. They don't like to show it, but you'll get to know the real them in time. My little Pestilence already has a soft spot for you."

Jack looked to his lap, embarrassed. "I-I don't think-"

"Behave around her, Jack. Keep your hands to yourself." He teased. "She looks rough, but when she cleans up, she's as beautiful as the full moon. Oh, what am I worried about? You're a gentleman. Well, goodnight, son."

"Goodnight." He watched Death fade away into the blackness. Moments later, he could hear Twilight racing off through the woods. He felt terrible for fibbing, but what else was he to do? He hated to see Death so down on himself, over his own children no less.

He sat and petted Zero for a while, bracing himself for the obstacles ahead. _If_ he won their bet tomorrow, the next three weeks with the horsemen would be hell. But if it meant learning some decent scaring techniques and patching things up between Death and the horsemen, he was willing to endure any torture those repugnant snots could throw at him.

a/n: Long? Yes. Boring? Yes. Cheesy? Yes, but...I've got nothing. The next chapter will be less lame and melodramatic. Obviously, Death's explanation for his family problems is grossly simplified to a Jerry Springeresque blurb. The real story involves many epic battles, disasters and turmoil in ancient earth and the vast crevices of the afterlife, but that would take too long to type out so you're kind of on your own if you wish to fill in any blanks. Again, thanks for reading. I have no idea how long this fic is going to be, but its...going to wind up being much longer than I had originally planned. Hopefully I'll still have your interest by then. Later, rock on.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Wager

Disclaimer: The Nightmare Before Christmas is not owned by I nor you or that fifty year old jerk-off with the nineteen year old girlfriend in the red Corvette that cut me off going 75 in a 45 zone...asshole...

The morning jack-o-lantern sun was partially shining through the thick clouds. Jack awoke on the back steps with Zero on his lap and a note placed over his face. He yawned his drowsiness away before reading it.

_Beanstalk,_

_Rise and shine. It's time for a game of hide and go shriek. Guess who the shrieker is. Don't keep us waiting. Good luck, you'll need it._

_Signed,_

_The Horsemen._

Jack sighed. "Looks like they've taken a head start." He said, scratching behind Zero's ears. "I should have guessed. Oh well. They couldn't have gone too far." He stood and braided his hair back real quick before setting off for the woods.

Zero stayed close by his heel. "No boy, you stay here. I have to do this alone."

Zero whimpered, but did as he was told. Pretty soon, Jack found himself alone and surrounded by trees. He felt nervous, but was bound and determined not to show it. He kept his head high and his chest out. He couldn't act jumpy, he had to stay calm. Any sign of fear at all would cost him his victory.

The sky seemed incredibly dark for the hour and the forest seemed much more quiet than usual. Normally you could hear the squawking of crows at least, but today there was nothing and it began to disturb Jack a little bit. Finally, he came across something, horseshoe prints, massive ones. "Nice try War, but you've lost your element of surprise." He said aloud with a smirk.

He followed them. They stretched on for miles, or at least they seemed to. Eventually, the shoeprints lead him to a familiar spot, the shack. Jack growled in frustration. "How is this possible? They rode _away_ from the..." Jack knelt down and inspected the shoeprints closely. Something looked odd about them. Suddenly, it hit him. "He nailed the shoes on the horse backwards! That conniving rat!" Jack kicked a loose dirt clot then headed back for the woods. He couldn't track them by the horseshoe prints. That would only lead him in circles or back to the starting point. He figured wandering aimlessly until a better clue popped up would be just as effective.

An hour had passed. He walked by the stream and even mustered up the courage to peak inside the black widow's cave, but he found no trace of them. "This isn't scaring me!" He yelled into the distance. "It's only annoying me- O-!"

Jack covered his mouth before he screamed. He was struck to his knees by none other than a black arrow (luckily it hit the space in between his ribs). He pulled it out, scowling. "Pestilence...Nice try, but I can't get sick! I'm dead remember?"

Jack broke the arrow over his knee and tossed it aside. He wore a little skeleton grin of triumph. "Something tells me the legend of the Four Horsemen has been over exaggerated..." Jack trailed off when fly landed on his shoulder. He brushed it off, only to have two more land on his shoulder.

Jack suddenly had an overwhelming hunch that something was wrong. He quickened his pace. With each step another bug landed on him. He tried to shoo them away, but more kept coming. Flies, bees, beetles, roaches, locusts, ants, flees and just about every species of insect to ever crawl through Halloween swarmed him. He felt so itchy as they squirmed under his clothes and all over his bones. Within seconds he was no longer a skeleton, but a giant mass of bugs. He couldn't scratch no matter how deeply they burrowed into his nostrils and eye sockets. He couldn't show fear. He had to keep walking. Even if he was allowed to scream, the only thing that would accomplish is a mouth full of bugs, so he kept silent and itchy.

Truth be told, he wasn't scared- extremely uncomfortable, but not scared. Why should he be afraid of something he eats as a snack every afternoon, right? He continued to swat away the swarm, struggling to walk. To his horror, the prickling sensation became a gnawing sensation. "Oh no..." He thought. "She's not trying to get me sick...She's trying to rapidly decompose me!"

His first reaction was to slam his body against a tree until he squished all the bugs, but he hesitated. Panicking is a sign of fear. Jack mentally cursed as he swatted the bugs away, trying his damnedest not to think about all the marrow that was being chewed off. The bugs completely clouded his vision by this point and he was beginning to stumble.

Jack outstretched his arms to feel his way through the trees when somebody pushed him from behind. He landed in a giant hole at least nine feet deep. He groaned in agony, although it was muffled by the buzzing of the swarm. The moment he sat upright, a horrible bloodcurdling moan echoed in his skull. It sounded as if ten thousand men were being gutted alive. It was Famine, it had to be!

Jack held his skull in a futile attempt to drown out the moaning, but it was no use. It was too loud, too gut wrenching. Famine's moaning was the most terrifying sound he had ever heard. He realized it wasn't just Famine who was moaning, but every poor human who had keeled over in his embrace from starvation. Never in his afterlife did one being fill his heart with such images of pain and suffering. "How long can he keep this up...?"

Jack gritted his teeth. He wished he had some way to shut Famine up, but he couldn't see or move well enough to climb out of his ditch. Were they going to burry him and force him to listen to this God-awful screaming until bugs chomped away at him to nothing? Was that their plan? If so, it was a good one.

Famine's moaning became louder and he showed no sign of stopping. Claustrophobia began to settle in. Jack breathed heavily, twitching. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take...he wanted to scream. He wanted to claw his way out. He wanted these accursed bugs off him! He restrained himself though. He couldn't show fear. He wouldn't!"

War frowned, tapping his foot impatiently as he observed Jack's torment. "This isn't working!" He shouted to Pestilence over Famine's racket.

"He'll crack!" She insisted. "No one has ever walked away from this without going completely insane! Give him five minutes, he'll beg for mercy like the cowering wretch he is!"

War waited all of three seconds before annoyance got the better of him. "This isn't working!" he repeated, infuriated. Famine, keep it up! It's my turn..."

He stomped over to the hole, jumped in and snatched Jack up by his throat. To Jack's relief, it scared the bugs off, but a new sinking feeling returned the moment he saw War glaring into him.

"Carpe Diem" War whispered before tossing Jack out of the hole.

He landed haphazardly in the dirt. Slowly, but surely, he pulled himself to his feet to discover the forest was in flames around him. Jack looked about. A wall of fire was closing in on him. He had no choice but to follow the path laid out for him. He didn't run lest he showed fear. The maze of fire coiled on and on. It burned hotter as Famine moaned louder.

"SHOW YOURSELVES!" Jack ordered. "I KNOW YOU'RE OUT HERE!"

He heard War's disembodied voice laughing. "Not likely, beanstalk!" Jack turned around, coming face to face with him.

"No treaties, to truce, no mercy!" War raised his fist in the air, letting out a fierce battle cry. Jack backed away. He could see figures forming in the flames. Zombie solders surrounded him on all sides. He couldn't hide, he couldn't escape, most importantly, he couldn't scream. A zombie grabbed him from behind and restrained him. He jerked free, receiving a punch in the face by another zombie.

"BEG FOR MERCY AND I'LL TELL THEM TO RETREAT!"

"NO!"

That was the wrong response. Jack literally became the horde's punching bag. The only language they knew was profanity. Every physical attack he received was accompanied by brutish insult. A blow to the back of the head or below the belt sent him toppling towards another solder. They kept passing him through the crowd in that fashion until he landed on his knees, battered and beaten before War.

He looked up at War as he struggled to his feet. He was in rough shape, but not frightened. He had received beatings for half his child hood. He wasn't afraid of getting smacked around. It was painful, it was demeaning, but nothing he couldn't face for another hundred years if necessary. "Is that all you've got?" He shouted defiantly.

War glared at him through his helmet. Growling, he kicked Jack in his ribcage, forcing him to kneel once again. He drew his sword, held the blade high above his head, aiming right in between Jack's eye sockets.

Jack clenched his eyes shut. He expected to have his skull split in two, but instead heard a booming voice shouting "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Jack looked up. Death held War's arm back, refusing to let him lower the blade. The flames extinguished, the zombies disappeared, the moaning stopped, all his wounds had healed! The forest was completely back to normal.

"Give me that!" Death ordered, ripping the sword from War's hand. "What's wrong with you? This is not a toy!"

War groaned. "You always ruin the fun."

Death shook his head. "I can't believe you three! If you cannot use your sword responsibly, you will not use it at all!" He barked before slipping the blade underneath his cloak. "I'm hanging onto this until further notice. Famine! Pestilence! Get out here, both of you!"

The young skeletons groaned, disappointed, but did as they were told.

"Back to the house, this instant!" He ordered, pointing.

"Nice going, Jack!" Pestilence hissed as she walked past him.

"We'll never get him to shut up about this!" Famine added before spitting towards him.

War stopped to look at him. He extended his hand and yanked Jack to his feet. "You were lucky...Congratulations..."

Jack blinked twice in disbelief. He looked to the sky. The sun had set. He did it! He walked through hell from dusk until dawn and did not once show fear. "So...you threw everything you had at me and I still won. What do you think?"

War snatched him up by his collar, forcing him to look directly into his eye sockets. "We threw not even **a third** of what we've got at you, beanstalk! You were lucky." His expression softened. "You're not quite the sniveling worm I first thought you were, but remember, you have a month of training ahead, and we will **not** go easy on you next time." With that, he threw Jack aside to catch up with his siblings.

Death patted Jack on the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Jack was silent for a long moment. Suddenly a small, triumphant grin formed on his face. "Yes...I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine..."

"What was all that about?"

Jack brushed off his sleeve. "Nothing...the guys and I were just having a little... gentleman's challenge."

"Don't try anything foolish with them." Death scolded. "War, Famine and Pestilence are not to be messed with. Watch your step or they'll tear you apart. Honestly, son, I expected better of you."

Jack frowned. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to-"

"You don't have to prove yourself to them or anyone else, understand?"

"Yes, Death."

Death gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Good. Now, come along. It's been a rough day..."

a/n: Sorry for taking so long to update. I had my graduation ceremony and all the bullshit that goes with it this week. I have officially beaten my review count for 'What a Nightmare' with 49 reviews in counting! You all make me so happy! Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Suffering Builds Character

Disclaimer: In the Bizarreo universe, I _do_ down the Nightmare Before Christmas, but not in this one. Damn me for not existing in an alternate reality like the cool people!

"Rise and shine" Jack sang as he nudged Famines shoulder.

He rolled over and looked up at Jack with a foggy, lethargic gaze. "Wha-? Oh...it's you."

"So, are we going to get started or what?" Jack asked eagerly.

The old couch creaked as Famine sat upright. He cursed his siblings under his breath for forcing him to be in charge for the first week of scaring lessons. "Must we begin so early...?"

"Well, Halloween always takes place at night, so I figured we should get started while the moon is still out. Death is sending us out for firewood anyways. I thought you could give me a crash course right after we chop."

Famine stretched as he yawned again. " Not now, I'm still tired."

"You slept better than I did! You hog the couch!" Jack argued.

Famine hunched over, holding his torso. "I'm not sleepy...I just don't have much strength at the moment..."

"Oh...Maybe you're just hungry. I haven't seen you eat a thing since you arrived. Hold on, I'll fetch you something."

Famine raised his arm in protest, but before he could say a word, Jack had returned from the kitchen with a dinner roll. "Sorry, this was all I could find" He apologized before placing it in Famine's shaky hand. "Is bread okay for now?"

Famine stared at the roll as if it was a turd. "No..." He replied breathlessly. Two seconds later, the roll disintegrated in his hand before their very eye sockets.

"I-uh- Oh no..." Jack backed away, a little disturbed.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" War shouted, restraining Jack from behind. He spun Jack around, picked him off the ground by his collar, and glared at him with white-hot intensity. "Did you think that was _funny_?

"I-I don't understand-"

War threw him an arms length away. Jack staggered right into swift, stinging back of Pestilence's hand. "You fool!" She spat. "Famine's spirit is doomed to perpetual starvation and to tease him with food is just sadistic..."

Jack yelped as War punched him in the back of his head. "Do yourself a favor, your majesty, and think before you act next time!"

"Now, now, back off fellows" Famine chuckled while stepping in between them. "It was an honest mistake, right?"

"Yes!" Jack quickly concurred. "I-I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't know-"

"Well, now you do" War sneered.

"Enough" Famine hissed as he threw an old rusty ax over his shoulder. "Care if we barrow this?"

War shook his head. "No, in fact, take your time with it. Keep beanstalk out of our sight like we agreed."

"Very well. Come Jack, I feel my strength returning..."

Jack followed him out the door, glaring the entire way. "Why didn't you tell me you can't eat?" He demanded.

He laughed. "I though _Famine_ would have given you a hint."

Jack rubbed the cheek Pestilence slapped. "I was just trying to be polite. You didn't have to set me up like that."

Famine snickered as he inspected a tree trunk. "You know what your problem is, Jack?" He asked, drawing the ax back.

"No, what?"

"You're too nice. How do you expect to scare anyone if you insist on prancing about like a cute little altar boy all day? You must learn to be more aggressive." Famine tossed Jack the ax. "Now that I mentioned it, start by chopping down this tree."

"But you're supposed to be helping me."

Famine ignored him and sat against a moss covered bolder. "Wake me when you're done. I'm feeling lightheaded."

Jack growled in frustration, but did as instructed. After being put in such an angry mood, it didn't take him long to cut down the sapling and chop it into logs. He tossed the pile into Famine's lap.

"Ah-Oh good!" He yawned. "Are you feeling more aggressive yet?"

"Yes!" Jack folded his arms over his chest. "And I'm going to take my aggression out on you if you don't get off your lazy pelvis and teach me something useful!"

"Fine, fine!" Famine sighed as he climbed to his feet. "What is it that you wish to learn?"

"Everything." Jack began. "How did you know what would get under my marrow? How did you approach such a good scare? Where did you learn to shriek and moan so terribly? What-"

Famine raised his hand to silence him. "Put the firewood away and then follow me." He ordered. "You're questions will be answered promptly."

Jack smiled. "Of course! I'll be right back!"

Famine waited patiently for Jack's return. He escorted him to condensed thicket. He and Jack sat in the center of the area. Jack stared at Famine, anxiously awaiting his instructions. "Well..."

Famine opened one eye socket. "Well, what?"

"Shouldn't you...teach me something?"

"Sorry, I was collecting my thoughts." Famine coughed up some dust before continuing. "The truth is I know nothing about scaring. I only know that my presence brings about a sense of dread to the living."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

Famine paused for a long moment. "Beings of the mortality fear us because we are from a world they are unfamiliar with. People fear the unknown and very few mortals are familiar with the next world. They fear death because it means leaving behind what they _do_ know. Those who do not fear their death fear the pain and suffering they will endure before they die." He laughed. "I understand their fear...I feel their pain, all their pain, constantly."

Jack squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"How could you be? You'll never know how it feels to starve or dehydrate. Not like humans anyways. Besides, I'm used to their pain. Feeling it is a second nature to me."

"So I must make it a second nature for me?"

"Not quite... All you have to do is tap into their minds. Try to understand what makes them feel helpless and anguished. Humans are so weak and vulnerable. Exploiting their suffering is easy."

"Ghouls are forbidden to harm them on Halloween, unless it's to ensure their own survival." Jack reminded him. "Can't you scare a human without killing it?"

"Who said anything about killing?" Famine smirked. "Why, I'm not the one who destroys crops and unevenly distributes food amongst those poor, wretched beings. I only clean up the messes they make for themselves. The Horsemen have always done that."

"What should I do then?"

"Make them believe their life is on the line. Convince them something dangerous is after them and their times have grown short. Torment them to their breaking points and they will fear you."

Jack rubbed his chin in thought. "Oh, you mean sneak up on them and grab their shoulder or something? That isn't anything new to me, Famine."

"No, you thickheaded twit! I'm talking about creating an atmosphere full of dismay and horror, not playing childish pranks! You know, dwell in the darkness, cast a shadow, strike while they're alone and defenseless! Strip them of everything that sustains them and rip the very hope from their spirits! That is what famine is about! That is what **fear** is about! A man without even the smallest morsel to maintain his bodily functions is not a man at all! He's a starving vermin ready to be exterminated, do you follow?"

Jack looked to his lap, deep in thought. "That's very cruel. I don't know if I want to become something so wicked."

Famine placed a spindly skeleton hand on his shoulder. "What did I say earlier about being too nice? Think of it this way, in the long run, fear is what keeps a mortal alive. Its what makes them struggle for survival. You'll be doing the mortal world a great service by spreading fear." He paused to take a deep breath. "You asked me about my moaning earlier, yes?"

Jack nodded. "But you said you derive your ability to moan is from the pain you absorb. If I can't feel it, how can I scream?"

"Reach into your core, Jack. That's where you'll find it. I want you to rip yourself inside out and bring everything that has ever troubled you. Don't hold back. Watch..." Famine stood, helping Jack up as well. He dropped his jaw wide open and burst out screaming.

Jack jumped back, startled. He held the side of his head in agony as the ghastliest noises he had ever heard exuded from the willowy skeleton. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He shouted.

"DEMONSTRATING! NOW SCREAM!" Famine ordered. "DON'T STOP UNTIL THE GROUND RATTLES WITH YOUR BONES!"

Jack took a breath before letting loose an animalistic shriek back into Famine's face. He shrieked harder and louder than he ever had before. He kept going until he felt the bones of his throat rupture. His shrieking gave out with a few cracked notes. He panted heavily, waiting for a response.

Famine blinked a few times. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "That was...amusing..."

Jack frowned, disappointed. He had given it his all in that screech. "Not very scary?"

"Not in the least." Famine smirked as he gave Jack a pat on the back. "Cheer up, your highness. I have all week to coach you." He paused to look to the sky. "The sun is rising. Let's give your voice a chance to rest while you give Ulcer a good scrubbing."

Jack gave him a disgusted look. "Why should I wash your mangy horse?"

"Because after that pitiful excuse for a shriek you deserve to be punished! And don't you ever call him mangy again!" He warned, pointing a threatening finger.

Jack's expression hardened. "It's not going to happen."

"Very well; I give up. Have a nice afterlife."

"Wait!" Jack shouted before Famine disappeared from site. "Alright" He sighed. "Find me a washcloth..."

And so began Jack's week of training under the guidance of Famine. They started every morning two hours before dawn and turned in every day at dusk. At first Jack felt more like a permanent butt of Famine's witty, sarcastic jokes than a pupil, but slowly he began to see a method.

Being of similar proportions to Jack, Famine taught him the advantages of having a scrawny, lanky body. He learned height could be intimidating, especially when you knew how to cast your shadow in just the right direction every time. Everything and anything around him became a stage for him to leap out from. Hiding in small spaces became his forte as well as lurching, lurking and rattling his bones.

Jack grew to admire Famine's miserable vagrant-like composure. He learned scaring techniques not even Zephaniah was familiar with. He often grew weary of Famine's sluggishness, however. Whenever they bickered over it, Famine would reply, "It takes a month for someone to starve."

He wished Famine would be a little more encouraging. If he made even simplest mistake, Famine would take a swig of water and spit at him, even if it burned the roof of his mouth to do so. Saliva became punishment and insults motivation and somehow Jack was suckered into twice the chores he normally did. Several days ended in a fistfight that Death was forced to break up. Jack realized he had taken his youth as an only child for granted. Then again, with the horsemen around, he was never lonely. Sometimes...sometimes bickering with them was quite fun.

Three days into their training, Jack's screaming had not improved. On the final night, Famine took Jack back to the thicket. "Congratulations, you're not the clumsy twig you were a few days ago. Have you been thinking about what I told you?" He asked, stepping out from under a ray of moonlight.

Jack shrugged. "I'm still unsure of what you meant. Reach into my core? Where is my core? _What_ is my core?"

Famine scratched his head in thought. "Haven't you ever felt enraged? I know a pampered little dandy like yourself hasn't much to get upset over, but there must be something you hate, something that troubles you- someone you would like to scream at."

Jack balled his fist in anger. "What makes you think I've lived in the lap of luxury?" He demanded. "Look, I've busted my back all week! I've mastered every move you threw at me! I even put up with all your garbage just to do it and you still have no respect for me! Any ghoul with an ounce more pride than me would have told you to piss off and quit, but I endured every last indignity!" Jack face contorted into a menacing scowl as he stomped Famine into a corner. "Who are you to act so high and mighty? You have no idea what drove me to this miserable forest! You have no idea how much I've been bottling up for everyone's sake! If anyone's a spoiled, pompous brat around here, it's **you**! I'll be damned if I put up with another two weeks of humiliation from Pestilence or War!"

Famine studied Jack closely. He saw the spark in the young skeleton he had been searching for. Grinning, he pushed Jack back a step and asked, "Who are you really angry at, me or yourself? I'm not the one who's failing to be scary here, you are. You're pretty gutsy and you know your way around a cemetery and dark alleyways, I'll give you that, but you're still a prudish little dandy who couldn't screech and moan his way out of a-"

Infuriated, Jack looked to sky and screamed. His voice reached high and low tones at the same time. It was as if he was a beast being slaughtered with a rusty potato peeler. He clenched his eyelids shut as his bones quivered. A flock of bats scattered in the air, startled by the terrible noises below them. After five minutes or so, he felt drained. He fell to his knees, silent and out of breath.

Famine looked down at him with a proud smile on his face. "Better, much better." He commended poor, exhausted Jack. "I'm glad to know you really have it in you."

Jack pulled himself to his feet and brushed the dirt and leaves off his clothes. "You know...that felt good. It was almost therapeutic."

"Sometimes screaming is all you can do for some relief." Famine agreed. "But you might want to hold back on Halloween. Remember, I was screaming to scare _you_. Don't scream so loudly you draw too much attention to yourself. You want to repel your victims, not draw in a huge crowd."

Jack twitched as he fought off the urge to start sobbing. Every fiber of his deceased being wanted to strangle Famine. Instead he looked to the sky and screamed again...

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating very quickly. I had my graduation ceremony last week and all sorts of other bullshit to do. Things will get more interesting, head banger's honor. Thanks for reading, rock on.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Masochist Waltz

Disclaimer: This may be a shock to you all, but I do own the Nightmare Before Christmas- GASP! Just kidding, the disclaimer is obvious. I'm only bullshitting you because writing these has gotten so freaking tedious.

Death stepped outside for some fresh air and a cigar. Jack was already out on the back steps, playing fetch with Zero. He looked frazzled and sleep deprived.

"Good morning" He said cheerfully as he tapped his cigar box against his wrist.

Jack jumped, startled. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming."

Death chuckled. "No one ever does. Sometimes it isn't so handy..." He paused to light his cigar and take a drag. "Why the long face?"

Jack shrugged. "It's nothing...I don't think the fellows like me very much. No, let me rephrase that. I _know_ they don't like me very much. Every move I make around them is a mistake. I'm getting a little sick of tiptoeing around them."

"Pay them no mind, Jack. They're just uneasy about having a new face here. I appreciate all the time you've been spending with them. They don't get much leisure time."

"To be honest... I'm mostly doing it for my own benefit. I'm trying to learn a few tricks from them, you know, for Halloween."

"That's a splendid idea! They could teach you a great deal of things. I've never really enjoyed frightening people. I'm too soft, I suppose, but War would be good to practice with. He's always been one to put on a good show. So, have you impressed them?"

Jack frowned. "So far, not really."

Death placed his hand on his shoulder. "Don't take anything they say personally. Besides, they must enjoy your company. Why else would they stick around?"

"To torment me..." Jack thought as Zero dropped his sparerib at his feet. He reached into his shirt and popped it back into place.

"Pestilence was searching for you this morning, by the way." Death said, grinning under the shadow of his hood. "I saw her heading east. I'd get going if I were you. It's never a good idea to keep a young lady waiting."

Every time he starting hinting in _that_ direction, Jack felt a cringing sensation go down his spine. Pestilence is such an detestable creature. What ever made death think he could possibly feel anything for her, Jack would never know. "She's supposed to show me some pointers down by the geysers today. I should have met her there by now, but..."

"But?"

"I regret winning that, I mean, asking her for the lessons. She's obviously not looking forward to having me tag along with her all day. "Jack rubbed his cheekbone. He could still feel every slap (and there had been many) Pestilence had dealt to him over the past week. "She hasn't exactly warmed up to me yet."

"Nonsense, she's flirting with you."

Jack eyed him strangely. "No, no she's not-"

"Of course she is! She just has a peculiar way of going about it. Surely you've noticed? I know you're shy, but a handsome young man like you must be popular with the girls." Death winked and gave him a playful nudge.

Jack looked to his lap, embarrassed. "Death, may we please get off this subject? I'm very uncomfortable with this."

"No." He answered with a mischievous smirk. "Don't be nervous. Just charm her like you charmed all your other girlfriends and you'll win her over easily."

Jack choked. "Are you joking? I-I don't know anything about girls- anything at all!"

Death rubbed his chin in thought. "So you're inexperienced... Actually, that might work out for the better. Its too soon for you two to get involved with anything too romantic."

"_Romantic_? Death, there is nothing romantic going on between-"

"What are you doing just sitting there? Run along you ol' wolf!" Death pulled Jack to his feet and shooed him away from the shack."

Jack dragged his feet. "Wait! I- uh- but-"

Death waved cheerfully with his scythe in hand. "Tell me everything when I get back."

Jack stood in the shade of the withered trees, watching as Death headed back inside to fetch Famine. They were supposed to 'bond' on the job today.

Death returned, looking full of energy. Famine dragged his feet behind him, rubbing the drowsiness from his eye sockets. He wore a black cloak that had been torn to fit more like a t-shirt over his willowy frame. "We'll be back soon" Death announced as he placed his hand over Famine's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

Famine's response was an incoherent grunt.

"Oh, come on...It'll be fun. Just like in the old days."

"Those days were not very fun, old man."

Death gave him a playful slap on the back before leading him to their horses. "Have fun, Jack!" Death said as he hopped onto Twilight.

"Yes, Jack, have fun!" Famine cackled before he hopped onto his horse as well.

A sinking feeling crept into Jack as he watched them ride off. He looked down at Zero. "Well, she can't be any worse than Famine, right?"

Zero cocked his head as if to say "I'm not sure, but let's hope not."

Jack sighed and motioned for Zero to follow. "Come on boy. I've already gotten this far..."

War was busy practicing his swing with an already cut up burlap dummy while Pestilence bathed in the geyser. She leaned her head back and breathed in the steam to clear her breathing. The heat soothed her aching joints and throbbing headache.

War was not about to let her relax for long. "Where's Beanstalk? Did you give him the right directions?"

"YES!" She hissed over the gushing water. "Let him be late! I don't want to get out anyways!"

War snorted as he swung his blade at an invisible opponent. "Lingering here is foolish! I shudder to think how much work we'll have to catch up on- what chaos that boney weakling has wrought upon us!"

"And the old bastard's incessant bumbling is driving me insane!" She added. "But a bet is a bet!"

"Curse my solder's chivalry!" War spat. "I intend to make him suffer during my turn. And you?"

Pestilence smirked. "I want to have a little fun with him, yes."

War placed his sword back into its sheath. He heard a faint bark in the distance. "Oh! Look who approaches!"

Jack reluctantly walked up to them with his hands buried in his pockets. "Good morning fellows. Pestilence, are you ready to begin?"

"Yes! Yes! Just give me a moment!" She snapped before pulling herself out of the geyser.

Jack screamed as he shielded his eyes and looked away the moment she revealed her entire naked body to him. "I'm sorry! I thought you were-"

"Calm yourself, dandy!" She ordered in a very irritated tone. "I'm exactly as you are, but with a more slender ribcage and a wider pelvis!"

Jack forced himself to face her, but made sure not to look below her neckline. "You're right, it's just I-I-I-"

"You've led a very sheltered afterlife, haven't you?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Jack caught himself staring as she shifted her pelvis. "Yes-NO, I mean."

"Shut up and fetch me my cigarettes." She ordered, pointing to a nearby rock.

Jack quickly raced off to grab them. War was already leaning against the side of it by the time he got there. "Fancy my sister?" He asked, smirking.

"For the last time, no!" Jack hissed. "What are you doing here, anyways?"

"This is my territory; I can go where I please!" He grabbed Jack by the shoulder and shoved him back. "Get out of my face, beanstalk, you're sweetheart is waiting for you."

Jack shot him a nasty look before returning to Pestilence's side, relived to find her clothed. He handed her the cigarettes and some matches. "Here" He grumbled. "Let's get on with this."

Pestilence held a cigarette in her mouth and lit it before loading her bow. "Alright, dandy, what is it that you want to know?" She asked as she aimed and drew back the arrow.

"I was wondering how-"

"BULL'S-EYE!" She shouted as the arrow landed right in the center of a tree trunk. "Sorry. You wanted to know how I summoned all those bugs I take it?"

"Actually, I was wondering what gave you the idea to use them. Can I really learn that trick?"

Pestilence paused to reload and aim. "No, but I could teach you conjure other things- BULL'S-EYE!"

"Really? Like what?"

Pestilence flicked away some excess ash while she exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I thought you were a Skellington? Every Skellington I've ever met leaned to conjure up hordes of ghost when they were lumplings."

Jack frowned. "My father hasn't exactly been taking the time to train me."

"Oh... Well, I'll teach you. As for _why_ I covered you in bugs. I knew it would make you uncomfortable." She chuckled, choking on the smoke as she exhaled. "Half of scaring someone is making them uncomfortable. Famine and I use pretty much the same methods, but here's the key difference; I don't discriminate."

"What do you mean?"

Pestilence hit another tree. "BULL'S-EYE! Sorry. I mean, only the poor starve to death, everyone gets sick eventually."

"What does that have to do with being scary?"

She scowled and swatted him over the head with an arrow. "EVERYONE IS A VICTIM!" She shouted. "Don't hesitate to scare anyone for any reason, ever! Not women, nor children, nor criminals or saints! Understand?"

"Yes, yes I understand!" He answered, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.

Pestilence tossed her cigarette butt in Jack's face and lit herself another one. "Stomp that out, would you? I'm trying to focus."

Jack grumbled, but did as ordered. "You're not a very considerate person, you know that?"

She smirked as she aimed and fired. "BULL'S-EYE! Ha! No, no, I'm not and I don't strive to be. Why should I when being a bitch gets the job done faster. You're too-"

"I know, I know, I'm too nice." He finished for her sarcastically.

"I was going to say uptight, but- BULL'S-EYE!"

"Enough with the bull's-eye you horrid shrew!" War ordered.

"PISS OFF!" She barked. "You had your morning practice, now allow me to have mine."

"As a general rule, practice makes perfect. Why do you seem to be the exception?"

"Come on, fellow's-" Jack interrupted. "There's no need to-"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

War chuckled as he loaded a bow of his own. "You see this, dear sister? This is a Mongolian Composite Horse bow. It can travel distances and speeds far beyond that of the toy you're using. All those bull's-eye's you're so damn proud of don't add to much against this beauty."

Pestilence aimed her bow and drew back an arrow. "You care to prove this little theory, dear brother?"

"I would and if I'm right, you and Prince Jack have to share a dance together."

Jack froze. Pestilence forced back her gag reflex. "Very well...FIRE!"

Jack ducked behind a rock. Hundreds of arrows soared overhead in a swarm. War's arrow's did indeed travel farther and faster (although not by much), but Pestilence's concentration and accuracy could not be matched.

War reached for another arrow. He caught a glimpse of the smug look on his sister face and growled. He wasn't about to lose, not to Pestilence! He quickly loaded his bow, knocking Pestilence in the back of the head as he aimed. "My bad!"

Pestilence fumbled and missed her target, giving War just enough opportunity to score some much-needed points.

He laughed triumphantly. "Looks like I've one."

"That's not fair!" She cried, snapping an arrow in half. "You cheated! I would have won and you know it!"

"There is no such thing as a fair fight." He reminded her. "You should have prepared yourself for foul play." War turned to rummage through his equipment pile. He pulled out an old gypsy dress and tossed it to her. "Now, be silent and throw on this nice gown. You want to look your best for your date."

She stared down at the mound of frills and ruffles and cringed. "Forget it War! I will not dance- not in the rags of women you probably **raped** and certainly not with _him!_"

Jack felt insulted. "And I won't dance with _her_! We have more important things to do!" He snapped. "Besides, I was never consulted before you made your wager!"

War laughed as he slapped him on the back. "Now, why would I consult you? What's the matter? I thought all you blue-blooded ghouls danced."

"Well, actually, I-"

"Put on the dress!" War ordered before Jack could finish. "Or you'll wear my gauntlets on your teeth!"

Grumbling, Pestilence hid behind a thorn bush and changed. War stood over her, pointing a spear at her back. After smoothing down all the wrinkles and combing her hair, War escorted Pestilence back to the geysers.

Jack leaned against a bolder, waiting impatiently. He looked to Zero and sighed. "Wish me luck, boy."

"Stop talking to that damn mutt and dance!" War ordered as he tossed Pestilence over to him.

Jack looked up. He could hardly believe Pestilence was standing before him. She looked so...so...feminine. The dress hung loosely on her frame, her expression resembled a wildcat's snarl and she constantly had to tug at her skirt and collar, but a transformation had taken place none the less.

"Take her hand"

War's voice broke Jack from his trance. "What?"

"Take her hand!"

"Oh! Right..." Jack placed one hand in hers, the other on her lower back. Disgusted, Pestilence placed her hand on his shoulder and they began to waltz.

He slowly led her in circles, taking the time to really study her features. The dress accented her figure, which until that moment was nonexistent to Jack. The black, blue, and purple fabric made her bones look cleaner, smoother. Her hair, which resembled a dirty mop before, now was stylishly pulled up, allowing thick white tufts to hang gracefully over her shoulders. He suddenly noticed her modest visage- how it lead his eyes down her long neck and rounded shoulders. Why, Pestilence was a real lady after all.

The grimace on her face told Jack he better quit staring. "Um...You look nice."

"Don't patronize me, Jack."

"No, I mean it. You look very pretty."

Her expression softened. "You're...a very good dancer."

"Thank you. You're light on your feet yourself."

"I have arthritis" She hissed. "My knees are killing me."

"Oh..."

She sighed. "Its not that bad. I've never danced before. It's...somewhat enjoyable."

"If it would makes you feel awkward, we can discuss your lesson plan to pass the time. When can you teach me to conjure spirits?"

"Today, if you like, but we can't do it here. We'll have to go to the graveyard. The trick will only work on hallowed ground."

Jack swallowed a lump in his throat. "I can't do that."

"Why not...?"

"Because, one: I don't know my way back to town and two: if someone I know sees me, they'll send me back to live with my father."

Pestilence snickered. "You really are a coward."

Jack looked away, ashamed. "I'm a coward who is under no one's heel."

"Not true. For the next week you're under _my _heel."

"This is supposed to be fun!" War snarled, poking Pestilence with his spear. "Quit whispering and dance!"

She sighed. "We'll only lurk on the boarder." She promised. "No one will see us if we stay on the outskirts of the cemetery."

Jack paused to consider. "I don't know..."

"Do you want to learn to scare or not?"

"Fine I'll do it, but I still don't know the way there."

"Oh, I do" War interjected. "I've mapped out the entire area."

Jack's eye twitched. "Why...?"

"You never know when you'll need a map."

"How much longer must we humiliate ourselves?" Pestilence asked.

"Just a bit longer. I'll tell you when you may stop."

Jack turned away from War, determined to ignore him and focus on Pestilence. "I feel you and I started out on the wrong foot."

"You think I'm a hideous wench and I think you are a pampered little Nancy boy. We understand each other just fine."

Jack frowned. "Look, if we're going to work together, we should try to get along."

She nodded. "I'm listening."

"Well...You said you've enjoyed this dance. Maybe we could do it again, you know without..." He nodded towards War. "Over us."

"I would like that." She agreed, inching just a bit closer to him. "I would like that very much."

Jack smiled. "Y-you would? I'm glad...A-and just to be clear, I don't find you hideous."

Pestilence cried out, startled as Jack dipped her. She clung to him tightly in fear he would drop her. Jack froze. Was she hugging him? Oh, her embrace felt so wonderful! He couldn't remember the last time he felt so exited.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Jack!" She hissed.

Distraught, Jack quickly yanked her back upright, accidentally throwing her off balance. She wrapped her arms around him to regain her composure and Jack wrapped his around her in return. She looked up at him. Jack feared she would scold him, but she didn't.

War clapped. "Bravo! Bravo! You two looked adorable!" He said in between good, hardy laughs.

"Are we done here?" Pestilence sneered as she jerked free from Jack's embrace.

"Yes, entertaining myself at your expense has grown dull. You two may move on."

Pestilence ripped off the dress and threw it in his face. "Thank you!" She shouted before stomping off.

Jack followed her. She grumbled under her breath as she ripped the ribbons from her hair. "That was an underhanded trick!" She spat.

"Was it really so bad- sharing a dance with me?"

Pestilence stopped to turn and face him. "No...I suppose not."

Jack cautiously took her hand. "I know you don't trust me and it's going to take a lot of hard work to earn your respect, but I'm willing to try."

"It's not that you're untrustworthy, Jack. You're an honest, guileless soul, just a little to rich for our taste. The old man adores you. You make us look like shit to him"

"I never intended to. I mean-"

Pestilence shrugged. "It's alright. You can't help it if the bastard likes you." She stepped forward and gently took her hand away. "It will take time, but we'll get used to you."

"So, you don't mind having me around?"

"I cannot speak for my brothers, but _I_ don't mind having you around."

Jack smiled. Her approval was all that mattered to him. Everything about her from her touch to her voice became so gentle...until she slapped him across the face. "Ow!" Jack yelped as he held his cheekbone. "What was that for?"

"I told you to wipe that stupid grin off your face! Tell me, what's so damn funny Jack? Be a man and insult me to my face!"

"But I never..." Jack stared at her. She glared at him, but not in anger. She seemed almost heartbroken. "Pestilence...a-are you crying?"

She turned away and stormed off.

"WAIT! W-where are we going?"

"To the cemetery, where else?" She climbed onto her horse and offered Jack a hand. "We've wasted enough time as it is. Hop on, quickly, Placebo won't bite."

She pulled him up before he could protest. With the tap of her heels and a tug on the reins, Placebo bucked and dashed off.

"We'll swing back and fetch the ass!"

"Who?"

"War!" She shouted. "We'll follow him and see what we can accomplish!"

Jack clung to her waist as Placebo galloped through the woods. He sensed Pestilences hostility right away, but he was too nervous to loosen his grip. He cursed himself mentally. He was so close to connecting with her and he blew it!

Jack tried to get another glimpse of her face, but her hair blocked his view. She was so difficult to read. "Are all girls this way?" Jack wondered. "She said she didn't mind me...doesn't that mean she likes me?"

Jack forced the thought out of his head. Why did he care if Pestilence was repulsed by him? She was the least pleasant lady he had ever met- or was she? There had been a sort of tenderness beneath that deep scowl for a brief moment. Jack would have given anything to see that tenderness in her again.

But it would have to wait. He had a technique to master and something inside told him today's lesson would not end well.

a/n: a long chapter with next to nothing going on. Wow I have a bad habit of doing that. Sorry guys, but I have to leave off here. I've rambled on enough as it is. Thanks for reading, rock on.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Jack-o-lanterns See All

Disclaimer: The Nightmare Before Christmas is Tim Burton's, not mine. NOT MINE I TELL YOU!

Pestilence hopped off her horse and took a big whiff of the crisp autumn air. "See, Jack? No one is going to spot you. There isn't a ghoul in sight. I can't even see Spiral Hill from here."

Stumbling, Jack hoped down as well. "I suppose your right, but keep you're guard up anyways. I'm not taking any chances."

"Fair enough..." Pestilence paused to light her cigarette. "Are you ready?"

Jack nodded yes.

"Good. Let me tell you something about yourself you don't know" She began, blowing smoke at Jack as she paced around him. "You are bound by the grave and you thrive in what lays beyond it. You have a special connection that we Horsemen do not. You can sense the presence of a wondering spirit. Unfortunately, when a soul escapes us, it's nearly impossible for us to track it down, but you can call to them. They'll feel your ghostly connection and they'll be attracted to it."

"I never felt this 'connection' before."

"You've never really tried to before, now have you?"

Jack paused to think. "I guess not. So how do I-"

Pestilence pushed him towards a tilted tombstone. "Just concentrate."

Jack stared at the mold-covered stone. He stared until his head hurt. "Nothing's happening."

"You're holding back. Try it again"

Jack shook his head. "It's not going to work."

"No you don't!" She shouted. "You did **not **drag me all the way out here to give up after three minutes! Try again!"

"But-I-What if I can't control them?"

Pestilence slapped her forehead. "You're not supposed to control them. They're lost, wondering spirits, looking for somewhere to go. They don't care why they are being summoned or what for." She took another drag off her cigarette to regain her patience. Its poltergeist, banshees, and shades you have to stay clear of. They're vengeful spirits who are best left alone. These spirits you're trying to contact are peaceful. Try reaching out to them. Souls tend to crave that sympathetic nonsense."

Jack took a deep breath and outstretched his arm.

"Don't clench your fist. That appears threatening. Loosen your movements."

Jack did as instructed. Something beneath the ground churned. "What's happening?"

"Concentrate!" She ordered. "Beckon it forth!"

Jack motioned for it to come closer. A translucent, white face sprung from the grave. It contorted as it let out a gasping moan and then dissolved in the air. Jack blinked twice in disbelief. "I-I did it! I did it! Did you see?"

Pestilence nodded in approval. "One spirit...well, it's a start."

"But I can learn to conjure more, right? I could eventually summon a sky full of them! Think of it, a sky full of ghost scattering through the air at my fingertips! No living man could resist wetting himself at the sight!"

Pestilence laughed, not snickered, not scoffed, but laughed. "Don't get too excited, Jack. You're just a beginner."

"Oh, I know, but this potential I-I never knew I had it in me." He looked to her with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Pestilence frowned. "Don't thank me, Jack. I'm just fulfilling my end of the bargain."

Just over the third hill, where the border of the cemetery began to blend into the pumpkin patch, a ratty old scarecrow suspended on a post, holding a pitchfork with the name Eli Patch carved in the handle observed the two skeletons with unblinking, black eyes.

"Son, what do you see in yonder graveyard?"

Another younger, less ratty scarecrow in a black and orange flannel shirt, patched up blue jeans and a tattered straw hat, stopped hoeing long enough to glance at the horizon. "I do believe that's the Skellington boy, pa." He answered, scratching his head. "But I thought he was away at some ritzy finishin' school."

"So did I."

"You want me to go see what's going on?"

"No, Jericho. You just tend to them pumpkins. I'll keep an eye on 'em."

Jack took a seat on a tombstone while Pestilence finished her cigarette. He watched her stroke Placebo's snout and scratch behind his ears. "Pestilence, you're not angry with me are you? I wasn't trying to insult you. If it seemed like I was, I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"In the woods- you were cry-"

"I wasn't crying!" She snapped. "I was angry! I can't believe he would degrade me like that! Actually, I can. He always torments me every chance he gets! I hate the pigheaded bastard! I hate him!" She turned to face Jack, giving him a venomous glare. "You just had to stare at me didn't you? You couldn't have made it less painful and kept silent! You had to make it amusing for him!"

"I couldn't help it!" Jack said defensively. "I felt uncomfortable too a-and you just looked so lovely-"

"Spare me the false flattery!" She spat. "You were only acting. You were just trying to pin all the mortification on me!"

"I was trying to get to know the 'delightful young girl' Death keeps telling me you are!" Jack confessed. "I caught a glimpse of her. I would like to know why she hides behind such a miserable wretch."

"Why would you want to get to know _her_?"

"Because I know deep down she's the real you." Jack gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I like you, Pestilence, I really do."

Pestilence turned and smacked Jack's hand away. "No, you liked the dress!" She corrected him bitterly. "You want nothing to do with me now that it's off!"

"I can't be sure of that until we get better acquainted. You all keep assuming that I act _this_ way or I feel _that_ way and put me through hell to prove otherwise! It's getting ridiculous!" He forced himself to soften his tone. "Pestilence, It wasn't the dress that enchanted me. It was at first- I mean-" Jack mentally kicked himself. "I'm looking at you now and I think you're beautiful without it. But I would like pleasant conversation to go along with your beauty."

Pestilence's expression softened. "Would you now?"

"I would like nothing more."

She looked down and mentally blushed. "You're lying...and if you aren't, there is something very wrong with you." She took Jack's hand and inched close to him until their bodies touched. "But still, I appreciate your kind words and the effort you put forth to make them sound sincere."

"But I-"

Pestilence shushed him. "There's something I've been wondering about for a while now. Since we're getting better acquainted would you mind settling my curiosity?"

Jack looked confused. "Well, sure, but-"

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss. Time suddenly stood still. Jack felt lightheaded. He had never kissed- never _really_ kissed before. It was...amazing. He wrapped his arms around her, pressed her body against his, and kissed back. Pestilence was surprised to feel his tongue reaching all the way to back of her throat. It sent shivers down her spine. She never suspected a nice, quiet boy like Jack was capable of such passion.

_That_ aspect of her curiosity had been settled. Now there was only one question left that needed answering. She broke away from Jack's embrace and gently led him to the ground, only to lock him in another kiss. Jack allowed her to climb on top of him and unbutton his shirt and pants. Her pelvis interlocked perfectly with his. He stroked his fingers through her hair, admiring it's thickness and smooth texture.

"Maybe I was wrong." He thought to himself as Pestilence ran her fingers down his sternum. "Today is turning out splendidly."

"Take a look at this, Jericho."

Jericho turned around. He cocked his head and squinted, almost unwilling to believe what he was seeing. "It looks to me like they're fornicatin', Pa."

"Looks that way to me too, son."

If Jericho's expressionless, stitched up face could form a grin, it would have. "I didn't know fornicatin' was part of the curriculum at ritzy finishing schools."

Eli chuckled. "Oh, it ain't, son, it ain't. Look's like there's some kind a scandal goin' on at Castle Skellington..." Eli looked down at his son. "Jericho, you take that carvin' knife there and cut me down. Then go help yer sister carve up some jack-o-lanterns. I've got me some investigatin' to do."

a/n: I don't know how a skeleton would do it either so don't ask me. XD!...


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: No Feelings Spared

Disclaimer: Who owns the movie NBC? Is it me? Couldn't be! Then who? Its Tim Burton we all know that. God, I'm lame...

Jack rested his head against the crooked tombstone. Pestilence leaned against him. They laid closely together, still naked under the evening jack-o-lantern sun. After fully realizing what they had just did, Jack felt overwhelmed. He was officially a man now. He felt proud of himself and yet terrified at the same time. What should he do? What should he say? The crows and the bat's speech Zephaniah had given him at twelve never covered etiquette _after_ sex...

He looked to Pestilence. She wore a neutral expression on her face. She said or did nothing but enjoy her cigarette. Jack felt hurt. Shouldn't she have whispered something by now? Hold his hand? Give him a kiss? This was a big deal! He had lost his virginity to her. Forty-five minutes ago, she was all over him and now she didn't even bother to look at him?

Suddenly it occurred to Jack that Pestilence only appeared his age. She had probably slept with thousands of ghouls before him. He was just an available fool- nothing special to her at all. This realization made Jack feel dirty...used...All the pleasure that flowed through his body minutes ago turned to disgust.

Pestilence finally spoke. "You did very well for your first time." She said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

"You knew I was a-"

"I could smell your virginity. It's such a sweet smell..." She brushed her fingertips against his cheekbone. "But it never stays on young boys long..."

Jack scooted out from under her. She knocked her head against the tombstone. "Didn't that mean anything to you at all?" He asked, angry and heartbroken.

Pestilence rubbed the back of her head as she sat upright. "I don't understand..."

"I just made love to you!"

She gave him a blank look. "I'm aware of that, Jack."

"Why did you let me do it if you have no real feelings for me...? You don't care about me at all, do you?"

Now Pestilence was hurt. She put out her cigarette on the ground and looked up to find Jack staring at her. She had forgotten how fragile the male ego is. She reached out and placed her hand on Jack's cheekbone. "But I _do_, Jack, I _do_ care about you." She assured him, sincerely. "I care about you more than I have for anyone in a very long time. Because of you, I remember what it's like to be touched...the warmth it gives...the comfort it brings. I'll never forget you for that. If you ever need my assistance for anything, I will be right beside you the moment you call."

"You will?"

"I swear by all the graves my arrows have led to. Would you do the same for me?"

"Yes, of course I would."

"Then we are friends, aren't we? And if we're friends, what we did today means everything."

Jack took both her hand's in his as he gazed into her eye sockets. He found no hint of deceit in the two black voids only a beauty that left him melting inside. "Suppose we could become...closer friends?"

Pestilence leaned forward and gave him a kiss. "We can and we will..."

Eli was dragging his black booted feet up the steps, exhausted. The enormous ebony door embedded in the jowls of Castle Skellington came into view...Finally he made it to the top step. He paused to straighten his hat, wipe his feet, and dust off his shirt before pounding on the cast-iron doorknocker.

A few moments later, the door creaked open and Zephaniah's face appeared through the crack.

"Afternoon, Zeph" Eli greeted him cheerfully.

Zephaniah shielded his eyes from the setting sun. "Eli? Eli Patch! Is that you?"

"Yes sir." He said cheerfully, tipping his hat. "I have some things to discuss with you, if yer not to busy."

Zephaniah put on a smile. "I'm never too busy for an old friend. Come in." He opened the door a bit wider, allowed Eli to enter and then slammed it shut behind them.

Eli looked about. Castle Skellington was in the worst condition he could remember. "Excuse the mess" Zephaniah said as he poured a glass of wine over by the biggest liquor cabinet. "I've been shorthanded on servants lately. This place is being demolished next week, so I have not bothered to hire more."

Eli nodded. "Understandable."

Zephaniah walked or rather staggered up to him and slapped him on the back. "Come upstairs and we'll get down to business." He offered. "Can't have any problems in the pumpkin patch, can we?"

He led Eli up the long, winding stone stairway and into his 'office'. It was an large octagon-shaped room with high ceilings, wall-to-wall carpeting, and old town flags and tapestries of the Skellington family crest over the large gothic windows. In the corner was of course a liquor cabinet. In the center of the floor was a huge desk that could seat at least six. Eli sat on one side and waited for Zephaniah to finish pouring himself another glass.

"Care for a drink, Eli?" He asked as he sat.

Eli leaned back in his chair. "Aw, you know that stuff's too fancy for me. I only drink whisky."

Zephaniah winked. "Not a problem." He reached into a thin drawer in the table and pulled out an unopened bottle and a clean glass. "So..." He began, pouring the whisky until the foam reached the brim. "What brings you here this time? Are the pumpkins not growing large enough? Is there a shortage of Jack-o-lanterns? It's not trespassers again is it?"

Eli took a swig. "Well, yes and no."

"Which is it, yes or no?"

Eli rubbed his burlap chin in thought. "John's attending finishing' school on the other side of town, ain't he?"

Zephaniah froze. His expression hardened. "He is boarding at Batwing's Academy, fright training for his inauguration." He lied with a perfectly straight face. "Why?"

Eli sighed as he reached over and placed his branch-like fingers on Zephaniah's shoulder. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure, Zeph-" He said with false, but believable concern. "With Merriam running of on ya and all the complaints about ya dropin' in nightmare rank...its easy just to...let things slip."

Zephaniah jerked his shoulder free. "I assure you, I have let nothing slip!" He hissed. "The press has some sort of vendetta against me! They have for years now."

"Well, they just don't know you like I do, old friend."

"Indeed, they do not!" He pounded his fist on the table, nearly spilling his wine. "I've given Halloween my heart and soul! How dare they make such accusations! Has it ever occurred to those ingrates maybe _their _scare ethic is lacking? Maybe _they_ need to put forth a little effort instead of relying solely on me? I'm only one ghoul, Eli!"

"I know, Zeph, I know." He shook his head and looked to his lap as if deep in thought. "Listen, ol' friend, how many centuries have you lead us as Pumpkin King?"

Zephaniah sighed. "Almost three now..."

"It seems to me you've burned yerself out. It happens to the best of us. We just have to accept that our time is through and our children must carry on our work."

"You are right..." Zephaniah looked into his nearly empty glass. "In two years, Jack can handle all this. As for me, well-"

"With all do respect, Zeph, I don't think John is ready for yer responsibilities." Eli coughed nervously as Zeph gave him a death glare. "What I mean is, I saw John...how should I put this? On top of this strange girl near the edge of the cemetery today. He was givin' it to her good too. He ain't doin' much preparin', if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, Eli. But if you ask _me_, you need to keep out of my business!"

Eli leaned forward, making sure he was the one looking down on Zephaniah. "Look, I know John ain't at no finnishin' school." He whispered harshly. "Whether you were aware or not, I don't know, and I don't care. All I do know is, if John ain't ready to lead the frightful two years from now on Halloween Night, the Skellington dynasty is done! That means the Patch family is taking over the thrown, you hear?"

Zephaniah downed the rest of his wine and slammed the glass on the table. "Really? How is that so, _old friend_?"

Eli chuckled. "If you recall, I own the most land in this town, next to you, Zeph. And my nightmare rank as of this past Halloween is the highest. I may be an old sack of shit like you, but my Jericho is strong as an ox. So if John don't come home and start learning the trade, Jericho will just have to step in for 'im."

Zephaniah stood, outraged. "Not a chance in Hell you patchworked braggart!" He shouted. "John is the heir and he will be king! I don't know who you saw in the cemetery today, but it certainly wasn't my son! The nerve of you! Get out of my castle this instant! Tell young Jericho not to raise his hopes! If I catch you anywhere on my property again, I'll throw you in the gallows until you rot! NOW, GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT!"

Eli stood and shoved in his chair so hard it jerked the entire table. "I'm a goin', Zeph, but this ain't the last yer gonna see of me!" He warned. "You know damn well us scarecrows are the rightful kings! We've been cheated out of the crown for years! Well not no more, Zeph ol' friend! It was just a matter a time before y'all fell apart. Skeletons, kings of Halloween! What bullshit!" He spit on the carpet and stormed out the door.

Zephaniah cringed as the door slammed. He held his held in his palms, struggling to think. He felt like crying or breaking something. He wasn't sure which anymore. Well, now his closest friend had betrayed him. He really had no one left now. He sighed. "Should have seen that one coming too, old boy..."

He walked over to the liquor cabinet. He was about to pour a fresh glass, but decided to toss the glass against the wall and just drink straight from the bottle instead. He drank so fast he couldn't even recognize the flavor. It didn't matter anyways; it was the alcohol he craved. There was no way he could face this mess without it.

He stomped around the room, cursing Jack's name, slurring every other word. He thought about riding out to Death's and talking to Jack- explain the situation, beg him to come to his senses and come home, but he dropped the idea. He was not about to beg his own son for anything.

Feeling dizzy, he threw the wine bottle against the wall before he fell to his knees. The bottle smashed into a million pieces. Zephaniah brushed off the shards on his doublet with one hand while holding himself up by the table edge with the other. He breathed heavily, forcing himself to calm down. "Why did you have to do this to me, John?" He asked with his head drooped. "Now of all times...?"

Pestilence threw on her clothes and pulled Placebo to his hoofs. "Come on Jack, we better head home before the old bastard sends a search party."

Jack looked to the endless rows of graves and mausoleums as he buttoned his shirt. "May we stay just a bit longer?" He begged. "I've really missed this place..."

Pestilence walked over to him and straightened his collar. "Five more minutes." She informed him. "Then we must be going."

"Thank you." Jack took a seat against a tombstone. Pestilence sat beside him.

"Its beautiful at sunset."

Jack nodded in agreement. "I used to sneak off to Spiral Hill every night to play and think-"

"And recover."

Jack looked to, astonished.

She stroked his hair gently. "I can feel your pain, Jack. I can feel every ounce of pain you ever felt. You've been through a lot. Not nearly as much as some, but still, you've experienced your fair share."

Jack looked away, embarrassed. "My dad isn't a bad fellow when he's sober, but when he drinks..." He sighed and shook his head. "He's always enjoyed his wine, but ever since mom left...At least when mom was around he was a silly drunk, but now he's just...out of control. It's not just the drinking. I could handle that if he wouldn't nitpick every move I make. 'Change your clothes, John! Tuck in your shirt! You're a prince, not a pauper! All that candy will rot your teeth you, you know! Close that book and go practice your lurking! You're as lazy as your mother! Sit up straight! Cut your hair! Why can't you try to make friends that are of _our _status? That's not the way we creep!' He never backs off! It's maddening..." He trailed off, staring into the horizon.

Suddenly an image of Jack's twelve-year-old self appeared in his head. He was still small, in loose black schoolboy clothes with the long, pinstriped collar kept smooth by three large onyx buttons. Merriam was walking behind him, leading him down the third floor corridor of Castle Skellington.

Jack accidentally bumped into his father, who was painting a new mural with one hand and sipping a glass of champagne with the other. Zephaniah spun around, spilling a few drops on Jack's neatly combed hair.

_"Oh! There's my boy!"_ Jack could hear Zephaniah's chuckling clear as a bell. He could still feel him poking his nose and smell the liquor on his breath as well. _"You'll never scare anyone if you don't add a little gusto to your approach. Add a 'boo' for the Celt's sake! Ha ha! Tell me, John, are you a ghoul or a mouse?"_

_"Leave that poor boy alone!" _Merriam ordered, pulling Jack away from him.

Zephaniah glared at her. _"What? Am I not aloud to have a little fun with him? I said nothing wrong!"_

_"You inconsiderate pig!"_ She snapped. _"I'm tired of listening to you belittle him!"_

Zephaniah balled his fist, but kept it at his side. _"I suggest you hold your tongue, dear."_

Frightened by his father's warning, Jack backed away until his back hit the wall.

_"Why can't you ever be encouraging? How is he supposed to learn to scare from a pompous old drunk who does nothing but insult him?"_

_"Maybe you could teach him!"_ Zephaniah cried sarcastically. _"You know __**so**__ much more about his progress than I! Strange how that could be when you're lazy bum is nestled on your chair all day while I'm working myself to a second grave!"_

Furious, Merriam stepped closer and poked him in the chest. _"I spend the bulk of my time caring for __**our**__ son!"_ She reminded him.

_"Well, it would be lovely if you could STOP NAGGING me while you're doing that!"_

_"I am not your slave! And you will not use poor John as a scapegoat!" _

_"I told you to __**hold your tongue**__!"_

Jack clenched his eyes shut. After a hearing a heavy _thwack _and a loud _bump,_ he opened his eyes to find his mother unconscious on the floor. He looked to Zephaniah teary-eyed.

_"Let that be a lesson to you, John." _He warned, pointing a finger right in between his eye sockets._ "When I ask for silence I expect silence."_ And with that, he finished his champagne and threw the glass at Merriam. That left two messes for Jack to clean up...

Jack looked over; realizing Pestilence had been hanging on his every word. "Zephaniah has really changed" She said, shaking her head in disappointment. "He used to be a sweet as you... You're mother was a brave soul to stand up to him like that."

Jack frowned. "She didn't say all that to defend me. She was just looking for an excuse to start an argument with him. She always found one reason or another. I think she enjoyed watching him drown in alcohol. I-I don't know why I missed her so much."

Pestilence put her hand on his shoulder. "She was your mother, Jack. I'm sure I'd miss my mother too if she and the old bastard weren't one and the same."

Jack shrugged. "She never wanted to be with dad in the first place. She just did it for the wealth and prestige. I never want to marry under those circumstances, Pestilence. Don't ever let me."

"You won't, Jack. You're better than that."

Jack looked to his knees and suddenly felt the urge to cry. "I shouldn't have just stood there and let it happen" He chocked out. "I know a lot of sons get hit by their dads...I-I know a lot of husbands smack their wives, but it can't be right! It just can't be!" His words became broken as if he was trying to hold back sobs. "I wanted to help her, but I didn't know what to do, Pestilence...T-there wasn't much I could do. I just wanted dad to stop! I wanted them to leave me out of it!"

Pestilence reached out and wiped away his tear with her thumb. Jack looked at her and the urge to cry was gone. He took a deep breath, pulling back his tears with it.

"Lets go home." She offered gently.

Jack nodded yes and stood. "You know I'd never lay a hand on you, right?"

Pestilence shifted uncomfortably. "You will want to sometimes."

"Maybe, but I would never actually do it. I wouldn't let anyone else hit you either, not even War."

She gave Jack a quick, grateful kiss. "I know, Jack, I know."

Emotionally drained, Jack was no longer able to look out into cemetery and agreed to leave. Pestilence helped him climb on her horse and they retreated to the woods just before the jack-o-lantern sun disappeared below the horizon.

a/n: Eighty reviews! Holy shit, that's a record for me! Thanks everyone, you rule!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Toughen Up

Disclaimer: See other fourteen chapters for information

Six days went by in a blur for Jack. Pestilence kept him working diligently on his techniques day and night with little sleep in between. He didn't mind it. As long as he was able to spend time with her, Jack was happy. He was able to conjure twenty spirits by Sunday, but that wasn't nearly as gratifying as beginning every morning and ending every evening making love. That's what it was, not sex, but making love. Jack came to realize he loved Pestilence.

He loved the way she grinned at him, he loved to watch her practice her aim, how she danced and charged through the woods on Placebo. He loved their conversations and the personal thoughts they shared. He loved the way she looked at him, the way she touched him and everything else about her, even the things that completely disgusted him before. He didn't care for her smoking habit too much, but he was willing to overlook it. He was hesitant to tell her though. His tongue knotted up on him every time he tried, but he knew how he felt. He loved her and dreamed of spending an eternity with her. He tried not to show his feelings outwardly, one: because War and Famine would never stop teasing them if they found out and two: he wasn't sure how Death would react.

Sure, the ancient skeleton had pushed them together, but Jack wasn't sure how far Death wanted their relationship to develop and it had developed into something major. Something about the way Death looked at him told Jack he knew. Death wouldn't stop asking questions. Where did you two go today? Did you have fun? What did she say? What did you say? Have you two kissed yet? You're not still nervous around her, are you? Jack gave him short, simple answers, unwilling to go into detail. He wished Death wouldn't pry, but he didn't seem to know the meaning of embarrassment.

It was their final night together. They snuck out to the graveyard for one final practice. Pestilence clapped as the horde of ghost dissolved in the air. "Very good, Jack!" She commended him, smiling. "Keep it up and you'll have that sky full of ghosts in no time."

Jack looked to night sky, admiring the full moon's eerie glow. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Pestilence stood beside him and leaned against his shoulder. "You could have eventually. I'm glad I helped you along though." She sighed. "It's a shame. We're going to be seeing a lot less of each other."

Jack frowned. "Why?"

"Tomorrow, you begin working with War. He and Famine have been soul gathering with the old bastard while I was training you. I'll have to fill in for War now."

"You'll come back and see me, right?"

"I'll try and make it back before you pass out. I'm warning you right now, War's going to run you ragged." She paused to kiss him. "Be careful tomorrow. Don't strain yourself for him."

Suddenly Jack felt anxious, but did his best not to show it. "I can handle anything he throws at me. I'm not going to let him push me around either. I've dealt with enough bullies in my life. He's not going to get the better of me and if he thinks he is, well, he's in for a surprise."

Pestilence snickered. "It's that attitude that will get you obliterated. In his mind, he's the general and I wouldn't try to argue with him if I were you." She grimaced. "He was always the lucky one of us. He has no weaknesses, no ailments, nothing and he knows how to exploit ours, the narcissistic ass."

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. He had been dreading scaring lessons from War for two weeks now. He knew the hulking brute was planning something excruciating for him. War seemed to hate him the most; then again, he hated everything the most. Oh well, no pain, no progress...

The next morning came. Jack was pacing around the living room in a panic. If he had a bladder, he would have been wetting himself. Famine laughed at him. "Relax, Jack! Maybe he'll go easy on you and bring you back in only two pieces."

Pestilence slapped him in the back of his head. "Be quiet!" She walked over to Jack and forced him to stop pacing. "The longer you wait, the longer he has to plan an attack. I suggest you get moving. He expects you to meet him near the drow marshes. Don't be nervous. War's a skeleton of his word. If he says he's going to teach you, he's going to teach you."

Jack frowned. "True, but I can guarantee he's a strict teacher...Do me a favor. Make sure Zero doesn't follow me. I don't want him getting hurt."

Pestilence knelt down and swept Zero up in her arms. "Will do. Good luck, Jack." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Famine stared at them in shock, and then burst out laughing. "Good for you, pumpkin! You have something to survive for!"

Jack kicked the couch on his way out the door. "Would you piss off!" He snapped before slamming the door shut."

Famine grinned up at Pestilence. "How did you manage to keep _this_ from us?"

Pestilence snatched him up by his sleeves. "You say one word about this and I'll have you on your knees, dry heaving until the new millennium!" She shouted, shaking him violently.

Death poked his head into the living room. "What's going on in here?"

Pestilence dropped Famine to the floor. "Nothing old man." They hissed in unison.

Death smiled beneath the shadow of his hood. "Alright then? Are we ready to ride?"

"We'll be right with you." Pestilence gave Famine a threatening stare.

Famine nodded as if to say, "My lips are sealed."

It was well over an hour's walk to the marshes. Jack could tell he was getting close when the ground became muddy and the stench of fly infested moss and algae filled the air. Gnarled, rotting trees blocked most of the sunlight, turning day into night instantly. If the threat of a pack of drows ganging up on him weren't hanging over his head, the scenery would have been comforting.

Jack looked back every ten seconds, convinced something was following him. "War?" He called out to the shadows. "If that's you, show yourself!"

Suddenly a ring of fire encircle him. Jack backed up towards the middle before his clothes caught fire. Victory leapt through the flaming walls with War on her back. He tossed his throwing knives at Jack, rapid fire.

The countless games of grave leaping with Famine gave Jack the agility to dodge them, but just barely. Jack fell to his knees after the last blade was slung. War laughed as he hopped to the ground. "You have the reflexes of a cat- a dead cat." He teased.

Jack stood, flashing War an irritated glare. "I'm not here to play games."

"Neither am I. You've had enough playtime with my siblings." He drew his sword and jammed it in the ground. "Lesson one, beanstalk: anything those fools taught you, forget it! They're hacks."

"What makes you believe you're the master of fright? You weren't able to frighten me. That's why you're stuck here, remember?"

"The long distance techniques are fine, if you wish to be a run-of-the-mill haunting like those pathetic goons back in Halloween. But you're no run-of-the-mill ghoul, are you?"

"No."

"You can frighten mortals face-to-face, but before you can do that, you must learn to think on your feet. You must learn to scare humans head on and in order for you to do that, you must learn combat. I'll turn you into a ferocious abomination of man if it kills you…" War smirked as he cracked his knuckles. "Put up your fist, beanstalk."

Jack backed away. "Wait! I don't have any armor!"

"Not my problem"

"But that's unfair!"

"There is no such thing as a fair fight. That's lesson two." War swung his fist, but purposely missed Jack's face by an eighth of an inch.

"How am I supposed to learn if you don't level the playing field?"

War sighed. "Fine...If you're going to be a little Nancy boy about it..." He snapped his fingers and the flames died. "I suggest you take a head start while I'm feeling generous." He warned while removing his helmet, gauntlets and shoulder plates.

Jack took off as fast as his legs could carry him. War was bulky fellow. He might be too slow to-

Jack gasped as something latched onto his throat from behind. "Thought you could outmaneuver me, did you?" War chuckled. "Surprise..." With an earth-shattering cry, he tossed Jack into a tree trunk and punched him back into the air before he landed.

War was not only strong, but incredibly swift. He uppercutted Jack in the ribcage then allowed him to fall to the ground, clenching his middle and coughing up a storm. "When you can learn to dodge my attacks and land a punch of your own, you're ready to charge at any mortal man."

Despite the immense pain swelling through his body, Jack stood and attempted to throw a punch. War blocked his arm with one hand and punched Jack right in the forehead with the other. After that, everything swirled then went black.

Jack awoke six hours later to Victory nibbling on his hair. He shooed her away, then struggled to his knees. He held his throbbing head as he leaned back against a tree. His eyesight didn't return for another minute or so. He was able to see War, still armorless, prodding at a bonfire with a stick.

"Wha...what happened...?"

War looked over at him. "Oh, good, you're finally up. I knocked you out cold. Be careful. You're spine is bruised, you're jaw's out of alignment and you have a concussion. I'm surprised you woke up this soon."

"Gee, thanks..." Jack looked down at his grubby shirt. There were tiny holes down the front that appeared to be caused by drops of acid. Jack looked up. "Was Pestilence here?"

War pulled the meat-covered stick from the bonfire. "She swung by to check up on you a few hours ago. She was pretty mad at me for injuring you, but I told her to quit her pathetic weeping and to get back to work. Crying..." He snorted. "What a waist of energy. And she wonders why women can't be solders."

Jack tried to stand, but he felt dizzy and stumbled back into a sitting position. "It's not a waist of energy to be compassionate." He grumbled.

"Compassion leads to hesitation and there is no room for hesitation in battle or when scaring." War corrected him. He sat beside Jack and offered him a hunk of burnt, rotting meat. "Hungry?"

Jack felt nauseous, but the smell was too enticing. "Sure, thank you." He popped his jaw back into place before chewing.

War gobbled his half down in a few bites. "So, you two are pretty close now, I take it?"

Jack mentally blushed. "I would like to think so."

"You're a lucky son of a bitch, beanstalk. Most ghouls who hook up with Pestilence wind up a withered, decaying pulp under Placebo's shoes by now. She must really be smitten with you. I should have guessed considering how damn chummy you two have been lately. So, when did you plan to tell me about your infatuation with my sister?"

Jack looked to his lap. "I didn't think you'd approve."

War shrugged. "Eh, I guess she could have done worse. I'm not going to use it as an incentive to go harder on you, if that's what you thought. Just do me a favor and spare me the details. I haven't vomited in three thousand years and I do not wish to vomit now. And in the future, keep your pants on. Normally, I'd say, knock her out and have at it, but she is my sister after all."

Jack blinked, surprised. He had never spoken with War this long without being threatened with a punch in the mouth. Somehow, his usual attack mode had been switched off during the six hours he had been unconscious. He decided to take advantage of this rare occurrence. "You've never been in love, have you?"

War raised a brow at him. "What gave you that idea? Love is one of the noblest reasons to fight. I've been in love. Still am." He whistled for Victory to come over. She carried a large brass shield in her teeth. She dropped the shield in Jack's lap. The weight nearly crushed his legs. "Take a look at this." He ordered. "Isn't she beautiful? I had her image engraved on it to keep her memory."

Jack inspected the shield. On it was a picture of a longhaired, huge breasted woman astride a Clydesdale. She wore armor and a horned helmet. She had pretty oval face, but she was a little too muscular for Jack's personal taste. "She's lovely." He agreed to humor War. "Who is she?"

"Her name's Svafa. She's a Valkyrie, the most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on." A bashful smile formed on his face. "She was perfect! A good cook, lush lips, big blue eyes, firm butt, nice thighs...and a mean left hook." The smile faded and he breathed a sad sigh. "But Valkyries only fall in with heroes. Apparently, slaughtering a thousand enemies and unleashing a river of their blood in her name does not constitute a heroic deed. She told me to get lost, so to speak and that was the end of that."

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe next time you should try something...a little less extreme. You should have talked to her instead or made some other nice gesture."

War scratched his shiny bare scalp in thought. "That's easy for you to say. Women trip over themselves to get to scrawny, effeminate little pretty boys like you. Big oafs like me, well...We just can't pick flowers and write poems and walk around with what little emotions we have on our sleeve. It's not in us, you know? I don't know how to talk. I only know how to fight."

"You're talking to me right now, aren't you?"

War stroked Svafa's face with his thumb gently. "This is different. This is between one solder to another. I trust this conversation will never be repeated to anyone?"

"If you promise not to tell Death and Famine about Pestilence and I, then sure."

"It's a deal, beanstalk." War smiled and gave Jack a playful, yet painful punch in the arm. "I will start out slow tomorrow. You're obviously not ready for a _real_ brawl, but we'll harden those brittle bones of yours. Eat another helping and then we'll go home and let you rest. You should be ready for round two tomorrow."

Jack nodded and broke off another hunk of meet. It felt odd carrying on a meaningful conversation with War, but he wasn't complaining. At least now, he didn't have to worry about getting his skull crushed in...As much. War wasn't so menacing when stripped of his armor and weaponry. He just had a stocky, Neanderthal look to him, that's all. He was almost approachable now.

War packed up his equipment, set Jack on Victory's back and led them back to shack. War walked alongside Victory, making sure the ride back was as smooth as possible. The trip took forever, but Jack's joints were too mangled to endure galloping. After such a draining day, he was ready to pass out until the next morning. He tried to stay awake in the hope that Pestilence would be home, waiting for him.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Can't Escape Dysfunction

Disclaimer: I wonder if anyone would sue me if I did claim to own the Nightmare Before Christmas...Na, they'd just send me hate mail. I don't own it though. There disclaimer over.

Thursday evening, Jack and War returned from a long day of practice, well, long for Jack anyways. Ten getting your tailbone handed to you seems much longer than ten hours. At least War allowed lunch and dinner breaks. He had put Jack on a strict diet: three helpings of all the four food groups and no sugar. Jack never imaged he could eat so much in one sitting, but getting pummeled builds quite an appetite. Unlike his father and siblings, War was a real health nut. He insisted that Jack be fit, no, demanded it.

It paid off quickly. Jack went through another huge growth spurt. He was now the tallest skeleton at the shack, standing at six-foot even. He stayed lanky for the most part, but his shoulders and ribcage broadened, erasing his adolescent appearance. His diet boosted his heeling process. Most injuries disappeared overnight and leaving his bones hardened the next morning. The drawback to that was the clothes he had arrived in no longer fit, so Pestilence made him a robe-like garment out of an old, tattered sheet. It made Jack feel like he was masquerading as a phantom or something, but he was too shy to walk around naked so he went with the cloak without complaint.

War removed his helmet to wipe the grime from his forehead. "Good work beanstalk" He gave Jack a congratulatory slap on the back. "You can walk home yourself today. That's a good sign. Maybe tomorrow you won't black out on me."

Jack forced a chuckle. "I still haven't landed a punch yet. How do you do it? How do you move at lightening speed?"

"A lot of practice and self discipline. Enjoying what I do helps. I don't suppose you actually enjoy scaring the shit out of people, do you?"

Jack paused. No one had ever bothered to ask him if he _enjoyed_ scaring. He was always told, you're the pumpkin prince so you better learn how. "Well...I guess-"

"Yes or no, beanstalk!"

"No." He admitted. "I really don't care for it. I imagine the real world is scary enough without spooks like me."

"Especially when destructive entities like the Horsemen are ravaging it" War added.

"No, I didn't mean-"

"Its alright beanstalk, you have a point, but Halloween is harmless is it not? I think you just haven't been shown how to have fun with it. Lurking in the shadows, going bump in the night- its effective, but its boring. If you can learn to be seen, but still feared as much as when you were left to your victim's imagination, then you truly are worthy of Pumpkin King."

"I still fail to see how beating me senseless will make me that scary."

"It's all about intimidation." War explained. "When you appear to be a force not to be messed with, you are. Tear into me and you'll be able to tear into the souls of mankind and leave them shattered." He laughed. "You may be a twig, but a twig stings when whipped across a tender backside, you know what I mean?"

Jack nodded. "Why force me to lift boulders then?"

"You never know when you're going to have to lift heavy loads."

Jack pondered inwardly for a moment. He wasn't sure if War was trying to boost his self-esteem or crush it. A half hour ago, he was forcing Jack to clobber a dummy, blindfolded, insulting him mercilessly when he missed the target. Not even Zephaniah made him feel as low and worm-like as War during practice, but now he was encouraging all of a sudden? It was all so confusing.

Maybe that was the point though. Maybe War was just trying to immune him to insults and degradation. Maybe not being intimidated was the only way to be intimidating. If this was the case, Jack was grateful to him. He was grateful to all the Horsemen. They had taken him under their wing and taught him everything they possibly could in the short time they were given whether they wanted to or not. For the first time, Jack felt like he belonged to family. His confidence before their arrival was virtually nonexistent. Now he felt he could truly face Halloween town and any other world for that matter. He wasn't sure if he would ever be the great Pumpkin King Death envisioned him to be, but he sensed he was on the right track.

"War..." Jack began timidly. "I just wanted to...to thank-"

"Shhh!" He snapped. "We're almost home. I want to sneak in and sharpen my sword before the old bastard can cut in front of me."

Jack kept his sight to the ground, remaining quiet. They spotted the shack's roof through the trees. Arguing could be heard twenty yards away. They stopped, hesitant to enter. Jack looked to War with a suspiciously.

"Don't look at me." War sneered defensively. "I was with you all day!."

Jack sighed. "It sounds like Famine and Pestilence are going at it. Come on, we better break it up..."

"Why?"

Jack ignored him and walked off. War followed. They entered through the front to find Famine and Pestilence screaming down each other's throats.

"May we go one day without your incessant whining?" Pestilence cried, braking an arrow over Famine's head.

Famine retaliated by knocking upside the head with his scales. "If you would stop showing off and let me gather my own damn souls, sure!"

"Children-"

"I couldn't take anymore groaning! Why can't you be a real ghoul and put them out of their misery? Snails move quicker than you!"

"Children!"

"Oh sure, slow an agonizing is fine when you're in charge! Moaning is more soothing than hearing hacking and smelling vomit all day!"

"You bastard!" Pestilence lashed out and grabbed Famine by the throat. A blue glow illuminated from her eye sockets. Suddenly an overwhelming agony overcame Famine as his bones became yellow and gnarled. He clutched his throat, coughing up dust. His joints stiffened and puss-leaking cracks formed on his bones.

She cackled triumphantly as he collapsed to the floor, debilitated. "You bitch!" He spat before yanking Pestilence to the ground by her hair. His eye sockets glowed yellow as he forced her in a headlock.

Pestilence marrow faded grey instantly. She could feel her body withering away to dust. She groaned pathetically as she reached into the air. She never felt so dry and empty. She reached out for help, gasping.

Jack and War were about to rush to their aid when Death stepped in. "That is enough!" He shouted, eyes glowing red as he pulled them to their feet.

Famine and Pestilence breathed a sigh of relief as their own ailments returned to them. Death shook his head in disgust. "Why must we go through this every time? There's just no sense in this!"

Famine coughed up one last cloud of dust. "Why the sudden interest in us?" He hissed. "Do you honestly think we're going to be this one big happy family? It's not going to happen, so just piss off!"

Death shifted uncomfortably. "Well...I thought you all wanted to work things out. Isn't that why you stayed?"

"We stayed was because we lost that bet to you're little prince! We could care less if we ever spoke to you again! The only reason we stomach the sight of you at all is because we have to check in on you to get our job done!"

Death looked to the others, hurt, but not surprised. His gaze appeared the saddest when his eyes met Jack. "You all stayed because of a bet?" The Horsemen nodded slowly. "I see..."

Jack stepped forward. "Its not how it sounds"

"Yes it is" Famine interrupted.

"SHUT UP! It's **not** how it sounds. I did it so you guys could get a chance to talk things over-"

"Because unless a bet was involved none of you would have stayed willingly."

Pestilence slapped her forehead. "Oh come on old man! You know we hate you! We hate each other! We always have! We don't work well as a group and we never will."

"Maybe if you would trust us enough to collect souls on our own, things would be different." Famine suggested. His expression hardened. "But you don't. You think we need you! Well, I have news for you, old man, we don't! This 'legend' you've made for us is a sad, sorry joke! Admit it, you're the one who needs us! We've been bailing you're decrepit carcass out for thousands of years now because it just sickens us to watch you scrape by to get work done!"

Enraged, Death slapped Famine across the face. "You insolent little monsters!" He cried with a voice that shook the room. "Reaping became ten times harder after you three were born! Everything you touch turns to ruin! Spawning you was the biggest mistake I ever made! If you think I'd trust the souls of the living to you little abominations, you're dreaming! You're going to get out of here and come back in six hundred years with a fresh batch of souls AND YOU ARE GOING TO LIKE IT! Until then, we're through! The Hell with you- all of you!"

Death snatched his scythe on his way to the basement. The others stood in silence. Jack looked to Pestilence. She looked as if she wanted to cry and so did Famine, but he didn't feel sorry for them. Why should he? War's turned away, his face remained expressionless.

Tears started rolling down Jack's cheekbone. "What is wrong with you people?" He cried, stomping his foot. "Where do you think you're going? Apologize!"

"Not a chance" Famine hissed.

"Well, say _something_!"

Pestilence shook her head. "There's nothing left to say."

"How can you be so damn selfish?"

"Look, you can't force unity on us. Don't bother getting involved. This has been going on long before you." War explained. "It was a nice try, but Famine's right and so is the old bastard. We're no family. We Horsemen are nothing but a curse unto creation." War sighed as he placed his helmet back on his head. "Sorry, beanstalk. It looks like our lesson has been cut short. Come on, guys, let's get out of here."

War and Famine began to pack their things. Pestilence reached for her bow, but stopped when she realized Jack was staring at her.

"You have to stay!" Jack begged. "No one is going anywhere until you and Death come to some sort of understanding!"

Famine snorted. "It's not going to happen, Jack. Just let us be."

"Maybe if you all would quiet being so pigheaded and listen to something else besides your own griping and moaning for two seconds you could reach an understanding!" Jack ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as he paced the floor. "Look, you three are going to stay put while I get Death. You **will** sit and talk things out, if it takes another three _years_ because I am sick of you're bullshit! I can't go through this again! I won't!"

The Horsemen exchanged questioning glances. Finally, War dropped his belongings. "I'll stay."

"I will too." Pestilence agreed.

All eyes were on Famine. He huffed defiantly at first, but after a fist to the back of the head from War, his expression softened. "Fine...I guess it couldn't hurt."

Jack sighed with relief. "I'll be right back." He announced before heading for the basement.

The stairway was pitch-black, but a faint glow appeared towards the bottom step. Jack spotted Death at the far end of the room, slouching on a closed casket. He had placed a few crypt nymph jars around him to use as a light source as he smoked a cigar.

Jack approached him cautiously. "Death...? Its just me...I'm really sorry for-"

Death raised his hand, motioning for silence. "No need for apologies son" He said while exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I know your intentions were good. I'm just...disappointed. Everyone was getting along so well. Then of course someone has to bicker and we're right back where we started." Death paused to take a long drag. "It was too much to hope for. They'll never forgive me. They're better off on their own. An existence without me is a happier one." He raised his cigar and drew a circle with the smoke. "Well, here's to another six hundred years of worry and regret."

The guilt weighing on Jack's ribs made him want to break down and cry. "Death, it doesn't have to be this way. You and the Horsemen can get through this. All you've done with them these past couple of weeks is reap. You haven't really taken anytime to talk to them like you said you were going to. Forget the scythe! Forget the legend! Forget reaping altogether! The universe can wait while you patch things up. What good is the universe to you if your personal chunk of it is shattering around you?"

A dreary silence fell over the room. Finally, Death put out his cigar then stood. "You're right, Jack. I haven't been putting forth the effort I should have. Well, that changes now. Let's go."

Jack led Death into the living room and then ordered everyone to sit. Jack paced in circles. The air was thick with tension. Everyone was staring up at him anxiously. Jack sighed. "Okay...We all agree, we said some things we didn't mean, correct?"

Everyone nodded yes.

"Good, we're getting somewhere...Would anyone like to start?"

"Why not Famine?" Pestilence sneered. "Its his big mouth that started this argument."

"Oh wonderful! Just _wonderful_!" Famine snapped. "Sure, take _her_ side!"

"You, keep quiet!" Jack shouted to Pestilence. "And you, start talking!"

Famine grumbled as Jack ripped him off the couch. He looked to his father, fidgeting nervously. "Old man- I mean..." He struggled to think of the proper term. "Dad...The fellows and I, we...Were we really your biggest mistake?"

Death wiped a tear with his sleeve. "No, no I spoke out of anger. You are my children. You mean the world to me. I love you no matter how you feel in return."

Jack looked to Pestilence, motioning for her to speak.

Pestilence looked her lap. Her hair fell over her face, luckily blocking the acidic tears forming in her eyes. "We don't hate you, dad." She choked out.

"Not entirely?"

"Not at all..."

Death looked to the others. They nodded yes in agreement. Overjoyed, he stood and embraced Famine and Pestilence in a hug. "I knew it! You do love me. You don't know how much this means to me to hear you say it."

Famine broke away first. "We didn't say anything about love. We said we don't _hate_ you" Jack elbowed him in the side. "I suppose there is room for love somewhere beneath annoyance and queasiness."

Death laughed as he ruffled his hair. "That's good enough for me." Pestilence still endured his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair affectionately. "What about you? Is there any room in your heart to love an old bastard like me?"

She nodded yes and began to sob quietly. Death kissed her forehead. "Calm down, dear, I was only fooling."

"But I'm never the one who says we hate you aloud, it's usually War." She explained. "I feel so terrible..."

"Beautiful, Pestilence, pin this all on me! He'll buy right into it because you're the damn favorite!"

"No one's pinning anything on you." Death assured him. You've been really quiet. That's not like you at all. Speak up."

War finally lifted his head. "I don't know what to say. I understand anger, I understand rage and I understand hatred, but...I don't feel any of those things right now." He stood, removed his helmet, and bowed his head. "Dad, I've fought alongside the bravest of warriors and the most incompetent. You are not incompetent. I feel no shame when riding beside you. If I ever did, well...I was just being foolish." He offered Death his hand to shake.

Instead, Death pulled him in for a hug. War struggled at first, but decided to go along with it. Who would find out anyways?

Jack collapsed in the armchair. "Great! Is everything solved or can we at least pretend its solved and let bygones be bygones?"

"I guess so..." Famine replied. "For the record, nothing has been solved. But I'm willing to forget everything for now. What say the rest of you?"

"Agreed." The other horsemen said in unison.

"What do we do now that we're not mad at each other?" Pestilence asked.

War shrugged. "I don't know. This is so strange...I don't like it."

"I like it just fine." Death wore a huge smile as he lit another cigar. "For starters, we can all thank Jack for putting up with our nonsense."

War propped Jack on his shoulder. "He may the biggest pansy I know, but he still managed to set us straight. Three cheers for Jack!"

"Hip hip hoorah! Hip hip Hoorah! Hip hip HOORAH!"

Jack felt proud of himself and of the Horsemen. He was happy to see them getting along for once. When War dropped him to the floor, Pestilence walked over and gave him a kiss. "I'm not exactly sure what your motives were for helping us, but, thank you."

"Oh! What is this?" Death wedged in between them and threw his arms over their shoulders. "I knew you two would eventually hit it off. I must say, you make a cute couple."

They looked away, embarrassed. "Dad, for once in my wretched existence I sort of enjoyed your company. Don't ruin it now."

Death snatched the young skeletons by the hair and slammed their heads together with a heavy _**clunk**_. "That was for whatever you two did that required secrecy!" Then he pulled them in for a hug. "And this is to say, congratulations."

Jack rubbed his head, relieved. "So...you have no objections to us?"

"Of course not! Why do you think I've been so nosy? I'm a sap for these young romances."

Jack took a deep breath, mustering up all his courage. "In that case, I-I have something I'd like to say..." He took Pestilence by the hands and looked into her eyes. "Pestilence...I've given this a lot of thought...I-I love you, with all my heart and soul. I-I was afraid to tell you before because...because...Oh, never mind. The point is I want to be with you for the rest of eternity. I want you to come back to Halloween with me. We'll rent a little place of our own until I'm crowned king. And you will be my queen..." Jack legs felt like rubber, but somehow he managed to keep going. "What do you say? Will you do it? Will you marry me?"

Pestilence stared at him, her eye sockets s big as saucers. Everyone was dead silent, waiting for her to respond. She pulled her hands away and held her breastbone. Jack knew what her answer would be instantly. It made him wish he were six feet underground.

"Oh Jack, I-I love you too, but...I really wish you hadn't of asked me that...

a/n: So...incredibly...fluffy...I'm choking on it! Good God, no wonder only chicks read my crap XD! I'd like to take this opportunity to answer a few questions. One: I know the idea of skeletons with hair seems odd, but skeletons CAN retain hair. In fact, hair and teeth take the longest to rot on a corpse (but teeth are the first things to rot when you're alive...hmm...). Two: It is true, Jack does not feel pain when he removes his ribs or skull, but that is a voluntary action. I would imagine if Jack gets his legs and ribs broken from a beating with a heavy stick, it would hurt. I'm basing that theory on the scene in the movie where Sally accidentally pricks Jack finger and he goes 'OW' and sucks on it like it hurt him. Just thought I'd clear that up. Thanks for reading everyone and by all means, keep reviewing. Rock on!


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Farewell

Disclaimer: Tim Burton is the creator of the Nightmare Before Christmas.

Sunday afternoon, Jack found himself right back where he started, in the maze of fire. War charged at him, fist first. Jack jumped back, missing a blow to the chest just barely. The armor War had lent him for the afternoon protected him, but made it much harder to move.

"Fancy footwork will only get you backed into a corner!" War reminded him. "Wake up beanstalk, hit me!" He ordered as he threw another punch with the opposite hand.

Jack crossed his arms to block. The impact knocked him backward towards the flames. He didn't seem to notice, or care. His mind was completely somewhere else. "How could she do this to me? How could she lead me on like that?"

War shook his head in disgust. "Dammit beanstalk, are you still going on about my sister? I could have told you the relationship wouldn't have lasted! You know she can't leave the Horsemen. Her destiny was preordained since the creation of life."

Those words hit Jack harder than the punches. "She doesn't like collecting souls! She said so herself."

War knocked him upside the head. "You're very self-absorbed, you know that? Don't you think it hurts her to have to leave you behind?"

Jack rubbed his aching temple. "She didn't have to seduce me the way she did. Pestilence came onto me! I was convinced she was the one. We're meant to be, War! Maybe her destiny is soul reaping, but mine is to be with her."

"If you don't stop whining and fight, I'll-" Frustrated, War threw a quick uppercut, snatched Jack's arm and tossed him in the air and through the flaming wall. Jack bounced haphazardly as he hit the ground, becoming entrapped in another section of the maze.

Jack sat upright. The tip of his braid was singed and his clothes were covered in dirt and ash. War jumped after him, remaining completely unharmed. "I grow impatient, beanstalk! Start focusing on the task at hand!"

Jack looked to his lap. "What's the point anymore? I lost Pestilence. Without her, my efforts mean nothing."

For that, he received a swift kick in the torso. His chest plate was the only thing that prevented his skeleton from collapsing. "You sniveling worm!" War spat, circling Jack as he clutched his middle and gasped for air. "I knew I was wasting my precious time here! One bad break up and you quit everything? You're not worth the carbon that formed you! Hell, you weren't **man** enough for Pestilence in the first place!"

Angered, Jack struggled to his feet. War scooped a flaming clump of grass and threw it in Jack's face. "Oh, so you wish to keep going now?"

Jack brushed his face clean and stomped towards him, scowling fiercely.

War smirked at him, folding his arms across his chest. "Its no fun being the whore, is it? Just being kept around as a toy for her amusement? Be glad its over now. She would have gotten board with you and incinerated you into compost eventually anyways."

Jack stood, face to face with him. He balled his fist at his sides, gritting his teeth. He glared into War's smug, taunting eye sockets, daring him to say one more thing, just one more thing!

"Come off it, beanstalk. Its not her fault you're a naïve, unrealistic little boy." War shoved him back over and over again. They continued the fist fight. War dodged everything Jack threw at him, despite his disadvantage in limb length. He didn't bother to throw any punches himself. He wanted to see what Jack had in him.

"So you've been rejected? What's a weak, spineless little dandy like you going to do abo-"

"SHUT UP, GODDAMN YOU!" Jack punched him right in the mouth. He busted his knuckles on War's rock-hard mandible, but he did it.

War backed up a step and rubbed his jaw. He laughed ecstatically. "Well done, Jack! What took you so long?"

Jack didn't respond. He fell to his knees and began to cry. War shifted uncomfortably. The flames died down as he removed his helmet. He turned his nose up at Jack, nauseated. Nothing made him sicker than watching a man cry, but at the same time, he felt...sorry for Jack.

"Calm down beanstalk" He begged as he pulled Jack to his feet. "You know I was just trying to get your goat back there. Cheer up. You landed that punch. You're training's complete. That's one victory at least."

Jack tore his chest plate off and tossed it to the ground. "I don't care... I'll never see her again. I'll never see any of you again. It'll be another six or seven hundred years before you come back to Halloween and I'll probably be nothing but dust by then."

War sighed. "Maybe, maybe not. It's not the end of the world. Hell, a guy like you will find someone else in no time."

Jack did not find that very consoling. He tried to lean on War's shoulder to cry, but he shoved him away. "Stop it!" War shouted. "For the love of all that's sharp and deadly, STOP IT! I feel your pain, honestly, I do, but crying like little girl will not win Pestilence over, so STOP IT!"

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't help it. I love her, War. I don't know what I'm going to do when she's gone."

War placed his hand on Jack's shoulder and looked him in the eye socket. "You're going to move on and find someone else, that's what! You're going to become Pumpkin King using the techniques we taught you. You're going to lead a rich, successful afterlife and forget about us. Now, shed one more tear and I'll crush your skull in with my bare hands."

Jack nodded, sniffing. "Maybe I'll move on and I will become king, but I won't forget you. You're my friends, the only real friends I've ever had besides Zero. Even Pestilence...Thanks for helping me."

War saluted him. "No problem."

Jack returned the gesture.

"At ease, solder." War laughed and slapped him on the back. "Help me pick up here and let's go home. I need to pack."

Meanwhile, in a separate plain of existence where space seemed infinite, light was nonexistent and where up and down had no meaning, Death, Famine and Pestilence were riding back to the world of Halloween. Death lead the way, pointing onward with his scythe. He leaned forward with Twilight as she dashed through the cosmos, his skeletal wings exposed to give them excess speed and balance.

He looked back. Pestilence trailed behind him. Placebo flew with a swarm of insects beneath his hoofs. It crushed him to see his little Pestilence so sad. "You're going to miss him, aren't you?" He called back to her.

She looked up, frowning. "That was despicable of you, old bastard, pushing Jack and I together when you knew we must remain apart!"

"This was your doing, not mine!" Death said defensively. "You knew you couldn't stay in Halloween, but you stole Jack's heart anyways!"

"Its better to have loved than lost!"

"Better for who? You've lost a thousand times. This is poor Jack's first."

Pestilence looked down, clinging to the reins tightly. "He's going to hate me forever."

"No he won't, dear." Death assured her. "Its not in him to hate, but I suggest you be very nice to him tonight."

She nodded, crying silently. "This doesn't seem fair... I really loved him. It's just...just a shame. There will never be another skeleton like him ever again..."

Death nodded in agreement. He reached over and wiped away her tear.

Famine finally caught up to them. His presence instantly spoiled the moment. "What did I miss?"

"Piss off!" Pestilence hissed. "I'm not in the mood."

Famine pulled away. "Oh, still moping about Jack I see. Well, carry on. There's a tribe keeling over beneath the Sahara sun I must attend to. I'll catch up with you later!" He pulled out his scales, ripped a huge opening out of nowhere and disappeared through it.

Pestilence sighed. "Great...now _he's_ the only company I'll have for the next six hundred years..."

That night, the Horsemen said their farewells. They exchanged hugs (even War) and wished each other well. Death cried as he always did. It was embarrassing for the others, but he didn't care. He hated seeing his little ones leave again. They gathered outside for the sad send off.

"So long Jack." Famine said while giving Jack a quick hug. "Never underestimate the power of a good screech."

Jack smiled. "Take care."

Famine gave him a thumb's up before hopping on Ulcer and racing off into the night.

War and Jack exchanged salutes. "Good luck, beanstalk. You have what it takes, remember that."

"Do me a favor and look up that Valkyrie of yours." Jack asked, winking.

War smiled. "It's worth a shot. Well, until next time..." With that, War took off as well, but not before a wild bucking session.

Jack felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find Pestilence standing before him. "I guess this is goodbye." She said softly.

"I guess so."

"We don't have to regret this. I still want to be friends. I-"

Jack shushed her. "I'm still glad I met you, Pestilence." He reached into his pocket, pulled out the bat head brooch and placed it in her hand. "It was my mother's. I want you to have it to remember me by."

She handed it back to him. "I have no need for this. I'll always remember you and I'll always be there for you if you need me. Please don't hate me for leaving. I would stay if I could. I love you."

Jack held back a tear. "I love you too."

They shared one last passionate kiss. Pestilence hugged him tightly as she rested her head on his chest. "You want to take one last ride, for old time's sake?"

Jack shook his head. "No...it would be too much for me. I'm sorry."

"I understand...So long Jack." She knelt down and patted Zero on the head. "And so long to you too, boy. Look after him for me."

Zero yelped in response. Jack watched as his beautiful Pestilence climbed on her horse and rode away without looking back. She was with her true loves now: Placebo and all the illness of humanity.

He held the brooch tightly against his chest and began to cry silently. That was it. They were gone... They insulted him, tortured him, intruded upon his life and drove him insane, but he missed them already. The Horsemen were family- _real_ family to him.

Death walked up behind them and placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "It never gets easier for me, watching them go." He admitted. "I know how devastated you must be, especially over Pestilence. She was crazy about you..." He sighed heavily. "It may not seem like it now, but there will be others. Don't fret. There's a first time for everything, right? At least you have some experience-"

Jack shoved Death aside and stormed off, teary eyed. He couldn't stand to look at the ancient skeleton right now. He insisted on pushing him towards her. He couldn't have just left them alone and not thrown romance in the mix. He had to convince Jack they belonged together! Jack was infuriated and didn't intend on forgiving him for it for a long time.

Death cringed as Jack slammed the front door shut. Zero hovered up to him and nudged him with his snout. Death knelt down to pet him. "It's alright, boy, he's just upset. Don't worry. I'm used to being the bad guy..."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Leaving the Nest

Disclaimer: If you squint real hard when you look at the DVD box it kind of looks like it says I own the Nightmare Before Christmas. Okay, it doesn't, I tried...

The months came and went. Jack suspected he was another year older by now, although he hadn't been sure of the exact date since he left the castle. He grew an inch or two during yet another growth spurt. His voice became deeper and no longer cracked when he became excited. Death's shack seemed so empty now that the Horsemen were back devastating the lives of man. Jack thought of them often, especially during walks.

He had forgiven Death after a few days, realizing it was childish to pin the blame on him. He couldn't help but hold a grudge against Pestilence. Getting turned down hurt deeply. He spent weeks trying to figure out why she didn't try to make it work. Was it something he did or didn't do? Said or hadn't said? No matter what came to mind, it always led to one explanation; he and Pestilence were not meant to be.

Rather than sit around the shack and dwell on it, Jack decided to take Zero for a walk. The sky was cloudy and dead leaves swirled in the autumn wind. Zero hovered low to the ground near Jack's heels. He could tell his master was deep in thought.

"I rushed into things." He thought aloud. "I was letting irrational emotions and desires get the better of me. Well, never again, Zero. Next time, I'm really going to think before I propose to someone."

Zero barked up at him, eager to get a better feel for Jack's mood.

Jack clasped his hands behind his back as he reanalyzed his thoughts for the thousandth time. "Women are no good, boy. All they do is toy with you." He stated firmly. "Every woman that's entered my life has caused me grief." His expression hardened as resent settled in. "You know what? I'm glad Pestilence is gone. She taught me a lesson; I've had it with girls for a long time. No pretty face is going to make a fool of me ever again."

Suddenly, Jack felt empowered. He lifted his head and stuck out his chest, embracing the new bounce in his step. He was through moping over a lost cause. He was through wondering 'what if?' The hell with rejection! Who needed women wrapping them around their finger? Certainly not Jack...

He stumbled upon the stream. Jack knelt down to take a drink. He stared into the water. The current was just slow enough for him to see his reflection. It was the first time he had seen himself since he was fourteen and boy did it shock him. He was...huge! Jack had always been tall, but now there was definition to his frame. He gazed at his face with a sense of remorse. Something inside of him had died. Whether it was innocence or ignorance, he wasn't sure.

Jack backed away, disturbed. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He was not a lumpling anymore. It was time to start life as an adult and rely on himself. It was time to move on...

A few days later, Death and Jack took a trip out to the geysers. Death sat naked, emerged in the boiling water all except for his head, which rested against a large rock. Content, he yawned and stretched. His joints popped, releasing stress. "I should have done this much, much sooner..." He said merrily. "What are you waiting for, Jack? Hop in. There's dozens unoccupied."

Jack stayed on his knees, fidgeting with the shredded ends of his cloak. "I'm fine, thank you."

"You're not afraid of water, are you? I know how you feel. I sink like a stone, but the geyser's aren't very deep, don't worry."

Jack couldn't look up at him. "The steam is enough for me."

Death raised a brow at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Death..." Jack began timidly. "I-I think its time I returned to town."

Death's eye sockets burst open. "Are you sure?"

Jack nodded yes. "I'm sixteen now. I should try to make it on my own for a while. I love it out here with you, but-"

"There's nothing left for you in these woods." Death finished. He breathed a heavy, sad sigh. "I understand. You can't stay here forever. I think some time on your own would do you good."

A part of Jack was glad he agreed, but another part of him was hoping for a little protest. "I'm going to give Hemlock Homestead a try first. The rent is cheep there, I won't need much to survive."

"When do you plan to leave?"

"As soon as I can."

Death pulled himself out of the geyser and reached for his cloak. "I will you take you back tonight if you wish. It will not take long on Twilight."

"I'm going to miss you." Jack stood, his expression glum. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me."

Death patted him on the back. "It's been a pleasure, son. I'm going to miss your company dearly. Things just won't be the same without you. Hold still." He ordered as he reached for his scythe.

"For wha-? Hey!"

Death snatched Jack's braid and cut a good sized hunk of it off."

Jack's hair as it fell just above his shoulders in loose waves. "What was that for?" He cried.

"You don't want anyone to recognize you, do you? The braid was too noticeable." Death snatched Jack's hood and pulled it over his face. "I suggest you keep this up as much as possible too. There! No one will ever tell its you."

Jack inspected his reflection in the geyser. His dusty clothes and dirty hair gave him a rough drifter look. He smiled, pleased with the transformation. "Good plan. I'm glad you thought of this."

Death smirked. "I'm always prepared. Come, let's go home and rest. You have a long night ahead of you."

That night, Death rode Jack back into town with Zero in toe. He dropped them off at the edge of the cemetery. It looked deserted. Hopefully no one spotted them. Jack hopped to the ground. "It figures I'd decide to go as soon I got the hang of you." He said to Twilight, petting her snout. "So long, girl. Take care of the old bag of bones for me."

Death laughed. "Oh, she's been doing that for centuries." He hopped down as well and placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Good luck, son. Be careful, its rough out there."

Jack nodded. "I will."

"Stay out of trouble." He ordered, pointing his scythe at him. "Mind your own business and don't let others stick their nose in yours."

"I won't."

"Do the best you can. You're inauguration is coming up. I'll be sure to watch you that night, I don't care what's on the agenda." He embraced Jack in a big hug. "Oh, I don't want you to go!"

"I know...I feel like I'm losing a father." Jack struggled to say with such immense pressure on his ribs.

"And to me, a son..." Death dropped him. He sniffed, wiping away a tear with his sleeve. "I better run before I start to choke up. So long, Jack."

"So long..."

With a kick of his heels, Death was off. He and Twilight seemed to fade into the shadows, but Jack could clearly hear the sound of galloping in the distance.

Jack sat on a tombstone, not quite ready to start walking. Zero nudged his leg with his snout to comfort him, but Jack wanted to mope. He loved Death dearly. He regretted not telling him so before he left, but it just seemed like something that didn't need to be said aloud between them. The year spent with him was the happiest of his life. Now that the old ghoul was gone he felt empty, alone, frightened...But it was his decision to leave. He had to go through with it.

"Come on boy..." Jack motioned for Zero to follow. "We have to make one stop first..."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Rob or Borrow?

Disclaimer: I own nothing...NOTHING!

Castle Skellington seemed to be glaring down at Jack like an enraged Titan. He spotted two gargoyles crouched on a higher tower. Jack ordered Zero to distract them. While the gargoyles chassed after Zero, he began to climb towards his bedroom, using the vines as a latter. He crept slowly in fear the vines wouldn't hold him. His balance may had improved tenfold since the morning he left, but now he was heavier. Every ounce of common sense he had told him not to look down, but he did so anyways. Jack's arms felt wobbly as gazed at the concrete below. He looked away before his grip slipped and continued to climb.

He reached the window ledge. Luckily, the window was unlocked. He snuck in with ease. His room had been left untouched. Jack decided to take his pillowcase and some bed sheets. That would be all though. He had to travel light.

He poked his head out the door. The hallways were empty- not a sign of Zephaniah anywhere. Jack tiptoed through the hall and down the winding stairway. If he could make it to next floor without making a sound he was in the clear.

Jack turned his nostrils in disgust. There were empty wine bottles and dirty glasses scattered everywhere. He spotted the large doors to Zephaniah's office at the end of the corridor. He peeked through the cracks. The light was left on. Jack gently nudged the door open to keep the creaking at a minimum. He tiptoed in the room with full intentions of making this a quick trip.

Jack tripped over something big and heavy. He gasped, startled when he looked down and saw Zephaniah passed out on the floor on his back. Jack backed away, half expecting him to wake up, but he was out cold. Jack growled under his breath, aggravated. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about getting in trouble.

He stepped over Zephaniah and proceeded to look for the family safe. It was hidden behind a portrait of great grandfather, Zephaniah the First. Jack reached for the combination lock, but couldn't bring himself to turn the dial. Why? He needed the money more than his father. Zephaniah would only waste it anyways. Why should he feel guilty? Jack sighed. But he did feel guilty, very guilty...

He looked over to Zephaniah, who laid motionless half way under the long table. Somehow he didn't look as big and menacing a he once did. Now he was just a frail old ghoul whose clothes sagged loosely on his withering bones. Jack decided to do what he had done more times over the course of his childhood than he would like to admit and take him to bed. He dragged Zephaniah to his bedroom on the other side of the wing. He was surprised at how quickly it took. Two years ago it would have taken Jack a half hour to lug Zephaniah all the way to his chambers, but then again, he was much smaller and weaker back then.

It was a little more difficult placing Zephaniah on his bed. Jack accidentally dropped him a few times. Zephaniah didn't wake, just grumbled in his sleep. He rested him on his front side, and covered him up. He collapsed on the armchair next to the bed to rest a moment. "You need to hire a cook, dad." Jack whispered. "You're starting to feel hollow."

Jack held his head in his hands, struggling to figure out what to do. He had to make a decision, quick. Zero couldn't distract those gargoyles forever. As dishonest as it was, Jack had to settle on his first plan, but rather than just taking the money and leaving, he wrote Zephaniah a note.

He found scrap paper and a quill pen on the desk, scribbled the message and placed it in Zephaniah's hand. It read

_Dad._

_If you wake up to find your balance is short, don't contact the authorities. I took it. I'm sorry about this, but I need a few hundred dollars to tie me over for a few months. I only took what I absolutely needed and I will pay you back somehow. I'm going to live in town for a while. Don't bother to look for me. I'll be fine on my own, don't worry. Please start taking better care of yourself. There is no one here to take you to bed anymore and this was the last time I'm ever going to do it. See you in a year. Happy Halloween._

_Love,_

_John._

Jack forced his conscience aside as he rushed back into the office and raided the family safe. He made sure to put everything back where it was before packing his belongings and leaving. He managed to sneak out into town square without being seen (or so he hoped). He kept his hood up, his limbs hidden and his face down just in case. He looked back towards the castle. The gargoyles had returned to the tower. They crawled on all fours, agitated. Zero must have given them the slip. He smiled, triumphant. He felt lucky to have such a clever companion.

Jack whistled. Zero immediately popped out of the ground and hovered to his side. Jack patted his head. "Good boy, Zero! Good dog!"

Zero barked with glee, but Jack shushed him. "Down, boy. We don't want to get caught now...Come on. Its time to find shelter." Jack slung his luggage over his shoulder and they were off, ready to face the nightlife of Halloween town as free citizens.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Slums

I do not own the Nightmare before Christmas or the song 'People are Strange' by the Doors. Everyone who knows me well knows I'm a diehard metal head, but I still love Jim Morrison to no end, so I had to use this song. Enjoy!

The streets were empty aside from a ghost or vampire drifting through. Barely anyone noticed Jack as he passed by. A few would glance up at him, but no one seemed to give the young skeleton a second thought. The streetlamps were of little help. The winding cobblestone streets of Halloween were as black as pitch. The farther Jack ventured away from the castle the more dilapidated the neighborhoods became. He cursed Zephaniah for never letting him travel to these parts. He didn't recognize anything!

_"People are strange when you're a stranger_

_Faces look ugly when you're alone _

Entire families of rats crawled out of the sewers and scurried by his feet. The air reeked of litter and mold. Jack wrapped his cloak around him as a chilling wind blew on him. A clap of thunder roared overhead and it started to rain. Jack sighed. "Perfect, just perfect..."

_Women seem wicked when you're unwanted_

_Streets are uneven when you're down_

He quickened his pace, taking shortcuts through the alleyways. That was not the brightest move. Zero kept flying off to chase cats. "No Zero! Heel!" He ordered over Zero's barking. "You're going to wake some one-"

"KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE!" Someone shouted from their window before tossing an old boot at him.

_When you're strange_

_Faces come out of the rain_

Jack rubbed the back of his head tenderly. He glared down at Zero, irritated. Whimpering, Zero followed with no further trouble. Jack reached the Hemlock Homestead buildings just beyond the witch's community an hour or so before sunrise. The first was closed until later that morning, the second had no vacancies, so he entered the third.

In the lobby, three zombie tenants sat around an old table, drinking coffee and playing cards by candlelight. Two of them were burn victims and the third had decomposed nearly to skeleton form. They eyed Jack as he entered, soaked and weary.

"Is this place closed?" He asked them.

_When you're strange_

_No one remembers your name_

The shorter of the two victims took the cigarette out of his mouth and answered. "No lad, the check in desk is over there."

A weak smile formed on Jack's face. The zombie was a much friendlier that street goblin he had asked for directions from earlier. "Thank you, sir."

The zombie chuckled. "Hear that boys? Sir!"

_When you're strange_

_When you're strange_

_When you're strange_

The others laughed. Jack didn't see what was so funny so he ignored them and approached the desk. He rang the bell twice. A voluptuous vampiress in a black and red low cut gown appeared from out of nowhere. Jack's first impression of her was cheep prostitute. She just fit that persona. "Hello, my name is Velika. May I help you, darling?" She asked in a deep, but feminine voice.

_People are strange when you're stranger_

_Faces look ugly when you're alone_

Jack jumped, startled. "Um, yes please. I-I need a room."

She paused to look Jack over with her white glossy eyes. "We have one room left, but its small."

_Women seem wicked when you're unwanted_

_Streets are uneven when you're down_

"Oh, I don't need much space." Jack assured her.

"How long do you plan on staying?"

"A while, almost a year."

"Really...?" She tapped her long, black nails on the desk. She looked down at Zero and frowned. "No pets, darling."

_When you're strange_

_Faces come out of the rain_

Jack's expression drooped with sadness and disappointment. "Please, may Zero stay?" He begged. "He won't be a problem, I promise. He's quiet and well trained and he doesn't make messes, look-" Jack held Zero up, demonstrating his ghostly, translucent body. "Please, ma'am, he's all I have."

_When you're strange_

_No one remembers your name_

Velika ran her fingers through the silver stripe in her thick black hair. "You swear to me he will not make a mess or bother the other lodgers?"

_When you're strange_

_When you're strange_

"I'll keep a close eye on him. No one will know he's here."

She sighed, but couldn't help but caved in. "Alright, the dog may stay, but don't brag about this. I don't want any complaints." She grinned. "You know, I like you, darling. You have manners. There isn't one ghoul in this rat hole who knows the first thing about being polite." She turned around, pulled a huge ragged book from the shelf, and dropped it on a blank page in front of Jack. "Welcome aboard. Sign your name here."

Jack scribbled his first name only. Velika looked it over. "Very well...Jack, you're in room 17 on the second floor." She announced before tossing him a key. "The rate here is thirty dollars. I accept Halloween currency only. Rent will be collected at the end of the month. **Do not** pay late or I will throw you out."

_When you're strange_

_When you're strange..._

Jack nodded. "You'll get the rent, I'll make sure of it."

Velika glanced around then motioned for Jack to lean over. "For you, I'll allow ten days of leeway, don't worry."

"I heard that you hag!" The taller burn victim shouted. "I see how it is! A young one wonders in and he's automatically your little pet!"

"Piss off Benjamin!" Velika hissed, fangs exposed. "You give Jack here any trouble and I'll double your rent you nasty old bugger!"

Benjamin snickered as he looked over his hand. "Aw, pipe down, sweet cheeks. I was only fooling."

_Faces come out of the rain_

Velika shook her head. "Run off to your room, darling. If you need anything, wait until dusk to ask. I'm the room service around here, in case you go looking for it." She held her head, fatigued." I'm about to retire to bed. Ignore them, they like to hassle new people."

Jack smiled. "Thank you. Sleep well."

"Get some rest yourself, darling. You look terrible." Velika turned and disappeared behind a tarp, yawning. Jack headed for the stars. "Good day, gentlemen." He said to the zombies.

_When you're strange _

"You patronizing us, boy?" The half-skeleton one sneered.

_No one remembers your name_

"No, I was just..." Jack turned and left before a confrontation could develop. He heard them laughing at him from the hallway. He flashed them a dirty look, but said nothing in his defense. Why bother starting fights on the first day.

_When you're strange_

He clung to rickety wooden railing tightly. He half expected the stairs to collapse. Dark and spooky was one thing, but this place was far beyond disrepair. He found room seventeen easily. Zero immediately jumped for the bed in the corner and laid down. Jack inspected the room. It was indeed small; half the size of Death's living room in fact. The design on the peeling wallpaper had faded past recognition. There was a small closet full of cobwebs, but no windows. A lantern was the only source of light. He set his belongings on the broken nightstand next to the bed. Jack sighed as he plopped down on the bare spring mattress. Dust flew everywhere.

_When you're strange_

He leaned over and patted Zero on the head. "Its not so bad, hu boy? Its nice and cozy, I suppose." He chuckled. "Not very fancy, but its in much better shape then Death's place, right?"

Zero yawned in response.

After making the bed, Jack stripped for bed. He felt exhausted, but made sure to set his alarm clock so not to sleep the afternoon away. He couldn't afford to. He had to wake up in a few hours and look for work.

_When you're strange..."_

Jack looked over his shoulder to find Zero was already fast asleep at the foot of the bed. "Good night, boy" he whispered before blowing out the light.

a/n: Hope these chapters were just a little more interesting. I've had one shitty week (doctor visits, no sleep, job problems, student loan complications, DMV, boyfriend has his head up his ass, bitch piss whine, whine bitch moan). The point is, my week sucked, so I kept the chapters short. Please review and make this week suck just a wee bit less. Thank you all for the support. I promise the storyline will pick up. Rock on everyone!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Pawnshop

Disclaimer: The Nightmare Before Christmas is the best Disney movie ever! And its not mine, it's Tim Burton's.

A sun beam managed to shine through the curtains hanging over Zephaniah's bedroom window. He rolled over to avoid the light, but his pounding head wouldn't allow him to drift back to sleep. He sat upright, holding his head. "What's this...?"

Zephaniah unfolded the note placed in his hand. His expression hardened after every sentence. When he was through, he tore the note into shreds. "That boy is wearing on my patience!" He hissed. "Of all the devious, inconsiderate, spiteful-"

He trailed off, unable to maintain his anger. So Jack was no longer at Death's? Zephaniah immediately abandoned all hopes of getting any information from the ancient ghoul regarding his son's whereabouts. He rested his chin in his palms, struggling to think. He had to find Jack. The crown depended on it and he couldn't just let his only son roam the streets by himself. Who knows what he could get into to!

However, searching the neighborhoods was out of the question. As far as the citizens were concerned, Jack was being prepped for his inauguration. He couldn't switch stories and call for a search party now! Zephaniah sighed heavily as he stumbled out of bed and staggered towards his bathroom. He glanced at the mirror only for a second. He didn't want to face the horrible shape he's in. He washed his face and changed into some clean clothes for the first time that week. Afterwards he headed straight for the kitchen.

"Cone on, Zeph old boy...a drink will calm your nerves." He assured himself as he reached for a wine bottle with shaky hands. "You have an eventful day ahead..."

Jericho sat against the tool shed with his knees pulled to his chest. He watched as the jack-o-lantern sun slowly rose above the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the pumpkin patch.

"There you are!"

Jericho jumped, startled when he heard a voice from behind. He looked and saw his father staring down at him. "Mornin', Pa"

"What are you doin' out here this early? Come inside and eat breakfast e'fore yer mother rips both our heads off."

Jericho looked to his lap. "Pa..." He began timidly. "I don' feel right about this. E-even if the Skellington boy don' show up, how am I s'possed to rule Holloween Town?"

Eli yanked Jericho to his feet. "Now don' you talk like that, boy!"

"But, pa I ain't no prince!"

"Don' matter." Eli said firmly. "Yer just as good as that Skellington boy! You got a hauntin' stare like no one else in town, not to mention yer ol' Patch family stalking abilities!"

"But, pa-"

"But nothin'!" Eli shouted. "You'd make a great Pumpkin King, don' you fool yerself. Yer a good kid, Jericho and you deserve better than bustin' yer back in this forsaken pumpkin patch fer the rest of yer days!"

Jericho fidgeted with his hat. "But I like working on the patch. This is my home, this is my life. I'druther stay here."

Eli sighed as he placed his gloved hand on his shoulder. "Sure, you say that now that yer sixteen, but what about a hundred years from now? Two hundred years? Three hundred- when yer skin's frayed, yer leaves all dry an' brittle, and yer wood's rotted out? Are you still gonna enjoy pullin' that plow, liftin' hay bales and haulin' big ol' pumpkins around when yer back and knees start to go? No son, yer gonna be miserable, workin 'til you drop like yer mother and me. But I want better fer you. I want you to have all the things I failed to provide this family. I don' want you to work yerself into the ground, 'cause you deserve better!"

If Jericho was capable of crying he would have. "You provided fer us just fine, pa..."

Eli shook his head. "Thank you, son, that's means a lot to me. I love and yer sister dearly. That's why I want you to promise me you'll go through with this. Promise me, boy, promise me!"

Jericho nodded. "I will, pa. I'll take over as king, one way or another."

Eli patted him on the back. "That's what I like to hear. Now get inside and eat e'fore yer breakfast gets cold. I need you to escort lil' Angela to that witch's shop this mornin' and pick up some groceries."

Jericho hesitated. "Tell ma, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Eli tipped his hat. "Okay, son, but a few minutes is all you get." He turned and walked off, leaving Jericho by his lonesome.

Jericho walked along the crooked wooden fence, kicking up dirt clots to help him collect his thoughts. He would become Pumpkin King, this he swore. Not for himself, but for his pa. The old scarecrow had worked so hard and sacrificed so much for him and Angela. He hated to see his father so worn and weary. Jericho loved the pumpkin patch and everything that grew from its barren soil and he hated to think of giving his simple farm life up, but if Eli believes the crown belongs to the Patch's, then by God, it belongs to the Patch's!

He took off his hat to wipe the grime from his stitched up forehead. "Where ever you are, skeleton boy, you best stay there." He grumbled under his breath, slamming his fist in his palm. "'Cause you ain't comin' back to Castle Skellington..."

Jack stopped for breakfast at the local candy shop/ bakery for breakfast. Technically, it was noon, but he had only a few hours of sleep before starting his job hunt. He sat outside on rusty iron bench, wolfing down a batch of Halloween-shaped sugar cookies. Jack had always dreamed of eating cookies for breakfast when he was a lumpling. Now that he was on his own, who would stop him?

Afterwards he decided to start looking at the witch's community. It was a business-oriented area so he figured he would have better luck there. The neighborhood was pretty busy by this time. All the shops were open and witches of all ages were out and about, running errands. A group of young witches hanging laundry to dry, whispered and giggled as he passed them.

Jack smiled and waved hello. They hid behind the sheets, blushing. It wasn't too often the young witches were aloud to converse with young men. He turned the corner at the large community caldron. Down the road at one of the smaller shops, he recognized two lumplings standing at the front door. They were heckling the shop owners, the witch sisters Helgamine and Zeldaborn (back when they were much less wrinkly, Helgamine had a figure and Zeldaborn was taller than the stool she stood on,).

"Latch and Sting" Jack hissed under his breath. They were taller now, on the verge of puberty, but it was definitely them. "Looks like they're through hiding out in the forest." He moved in closer to hear what they were saying.

"This is worth much more than that!" Latch argued. "Look at it- a genuine slith skull, perfectly in tact! It's worth another ten at least."

Jack froze. He ducked behind a corner, poking his head out just long enough to confirm his suspicions. There- in Sting's grubby hands was Vance's skull, dusty and lifeless.

Zeldaborn snatched the skull from Stings hands and wiped it with the hem of her dress. "How do we know this is real? You've swindles us before, you little hooligans!"

"Look at it's jaw." Sting insisted. "See, it never existed." She tapped the cranium. "Its thick too. We'd never be able to duplicate something like this."

Helgamine eyed them suspiciously. "Sliths are illegal you know. Why should we purchase something that could get us in trouble if we're caught with it?"

Latch scowled up at her. "Listen you old bat, we're not stupid! _Dead_ sliths are perfectly legal. Don't try and pull one over on us!" He warned. "We're cutting _you_ a deal. You can turn around and sell this beauty for twice the price we're asking for and you know it!"

Helgamine motioned for a huddle. A minute or two later the witch sisters turned around with sly smirks on their faces. "Very well, deary, you have a sale. Pay the little brats, sister."

Zelda born threw Sting a bag of money. She and her sister returned inside, slamming the door in the children's faces. Sting squealed with delight as she counted the coins and bills and then gave Latch a big hug. "We did it! We did it!" She cried.

Latch took the bag and counted for himself. "A fine trade." He agreed. "Come on, lets get out of here before we're robbed."

They ran off down the street. Jack outstretched his arm, grabbed them by their collars and dragged them into the dim alleyway. They screamed at first, but Jack covered their mouths. "SHHHH!" He ordered. "Don't make a sound!"

Latch jerked his arm free, pulled out a blade from under his clothes, and aimed it at Jack's middle. "You're not taking one cent!" He hissed. "You may be bigger than me, but believe me, I'm meaner!"

Jack did not back down. "Dry up!" He snapped. "I want information, not your damn money."

Sting stepped forward. "What kind of information?"

"Where did you get that slith skull?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do!" Jack snarled. "Where did you get the skull?"

Latch eyed the hooded ghoul suspiciously. "From the catacombs."

"I know that!" Jack tightened his grip on Latch's collar. "Who gave it to you?"

"It stole it from my older brother." He answered. "He stole it from our elder Thannen."

"What happened to it's body?"

Latch snickered. "What else? We ate it, intestines, heart, and all. The wings made good shoes too." Latch's lips formed a cruel grin as he presented his new black leather boots.

Jack's grew nauseous as they cackled. Infuriated, he shoved them against a brick wall. "Go, you rotten little urchins!" he ordered, pointing. "Get out of here! GO!"

Latch and Sting scurried off as quickly as they could. Jack leaned against the house and sighed. He hoped they didn't recognize him. They didn't appear to, but Latch and Sting were tricky little imps. It would not be beneath them to turn him in to Zephaniah for a quick dollar.

He clenched his eye sockets shut before they began to tear up. Poor little Vance, slaughtered for a meal at infancy! He couldn't just stand there and allow some stranger to purchase it's skull for decoration. Vance disserved a proper burial.

Zeldaborn jumped as the door to the shop burst open and a young skeleton cloaked in white stomped towards the counter. "How much for that skull on the top shelf?" Jack asked curtly.

"It'll cost you a pretty penny, deary." She warned with a grin. "That's the skull of a rare beast-"

"A slith, I know. How much for it?"

"We want a hundred for it upfront." Helgamine answered for her. "Not a cent less."

A hundred dollars would cut too deeply in the rent. Jack needed to ration what little money he took. There was no way he could afford to purchase the skull, not now anyways. He sighed, disappointed in himself.

Jack walked out of the shop and didn't look back. His mood was officially kicked in the gutter for the rest of the day. At least he knew what happened to Vance, although he had hoped things would have turned out better for poor creature.

He continued the job hunt, finding no luck whatsoever. No shop owner would hire him. Witches only wanted witches working for them. They were a tight bunch, preferring to keep the customs and practices of their community separated from the rest of the town. Considering the history of their clan, Jack understood why, but he wasn't happy with the setback.

Not paying any attention to the street ahead, Jack accidentally bumped into someone, knocking the groceries right out of their arms.

"Watch where you're going!" The person next to them snapped.

Jack dropped to his knees to pick up the items. "I'm sorry! I was lost in thought. Here-" He jumped startled, the second he realized whose groceries they were.

"John?" A young she-scarecrow in a faded denim overall skirt and a purple button up blouse looked up at him, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Her brother, Jericho, stepped forward. "Long time, no see, buddy. I heard you were boarding in Spider Gates."

Jack forced a smile. So that's the story Zephaniah used to cover his ass. Better run with it, Jack thought. "Well, I'm supposed to be, but...Can you two keep a secret?"

Angela's golden straw hair bobbed as she nodded. "Sure."

"I'm still taking the courses, but I moved out of the dorms." He lied. "The lifestyle is too strict for my taste."

"I can imagine." Angela agreed. She chuckled. "The uniforms too stuffy for you too?"

Jack looked down at his dirty robes. "Um, yeah...I didn't really bring a change of clothes, so I made due with what I had available."

"It's been a long time, John." Jericho slapped Jack on the back. "I haven't seen you since yer mom runned off."

"Jericho!" Angela elbowed him in the stomach.

"What? I didn't mean nothin' by it! I was just sayin' we was worried about you is all."

"No, no, it's alright" Jack assured them. "I'm doing just fine, really. I go by Jack now, by the way."

Angela smiled. "Aw, what did you go and change yer name fer? I liked you as John."

Jack mentally blushed. Angela was much cuter now that she was older. She had curves now held together by stitches and patches over his knees and elbows. Her face couldn't show emotion, but her voice was so soft and her face so beautifully painted on her clean burlap skin, it didn't matter.

"He's aloud to change his name if he wants." Jericho interrupted. "It's a shame we haven't seen much of each other lately. Why don' you come 'round the patch no more, shoot the breeze with me?"

Jack shrugged. "I'm sorry. I-I guess things...just haven't been going very well these past few years. I sort of shied away from everyone." Jack cursed himself for losing touch with the Patch's. He was never _good_ friends with Jericho growing up, but they were pals. Everyone could use a friend or two, especially him right now. "Maybe over the semester break I can stop by the pumpkin patch and catch up."

Jericho nodded. "I'd like that." He tipped his straw hat politely. "Well, we gotta get back home. Lot's to do. Nice talkin' to you, Jack. See ya around."

"Wait!" Jack begged. "Don't tell anyone I'm out of the dorms, especially my dad. He doesn't know and if he finds out, he'll kill me."

"No problem."

"Yer safe with us, Jack. Take care!" Angela looked the strapping young skeleton over as long as she could before Jericho dragged her away by her arm.

Jack watched the Patch siblings took off down the street. He watched Angela the closest. As a lumpling, she was a real pest, but she seemed to have developed into a fine young lady. She was like a big doll, handcrafted to spooky perfection...

"Jack scolded himself. She's not that great." He whispered. "She's just a girl. You don't need them."

He could say that until his jaw fell off, but it didn't make a difference. Angela was the prettiest creature he had seen since Pestilence and he wanted to speak to her again. Curse puberty! Curse it! Jack tried not to dwell on her. He had more important things on his mind.

"What are you rushin' fer, Jericho?" Angela asked.

"Never you mind." He replied. "I gotta talk to pa."

Angela stopped, refusing to take another step. "You ain't gonna tell him about Jack are you?"

"A'course not! I just forgot to fix the latch on our fence. Surely dad's noticed by now. He'll be cursin' me out and left and right if I don't get home and fix it. So hurry up!"

Angela eyed Jericho suspiciously. He and Eli had been acting strange for months. She hated it when they left her out of things just because they thought 'little girls need protecting'. Well, she wasn't a little girl anymore. She had the right to know if there was a problem or not.

"Don' just stand there like a stupid turkey out in the rain! Move!"

She dismissed her brother for now and quickened her pace. If Jericho did happen to blab about jack, she would just have to go and warn him...

Hours passed. Jack still roamed the streets, head low and feet dragging. He had to turn back soon though. He was venturing too close to town square as it is. A few blocks away from Town Hall, construction was in progress. Among the scurrying workers was Zephaniah, direction the flow of progress.

Jack jumped the stone gate to observe him from a safe distance. Zephaniah looked...unnatural without a glass of wine in his hand. He stood uneasily and fumbled his sentences as if he had been drinking though. Despite this, the workers followed his orders without hesitation. Whether Zephaniah's drunkenness was obvious or not, it didn't concern them. They were on the clock.

Zephaniah turned his head. Jack ducked from his sight. That was his cue to run. He scratched his skull, confused. He could have sworn he had seen a tall figure lurking close by. Zephaniah dismissed himself, convinced his vision was failing him.

Jack made a mad dash down the sidewalk, but slipped over some litter. Growling with frustration, he peeled a flyer from beneath his shoe. It read

_**Help Wanted at Prof. Belphegor's Observatory.**_

_I am looking for a secretary to organize my research. Writing skills required, Typing skills preferred. I'm available for walk in interviews mornings from 6:00 am to 11:00 am. _

Jack smiled as he looked up and spotted the laboratory across from Town Hall (which would eventually become Dr. Finkelstein's lab and be equipped with electric fences less than a century later). He could perform bookkeeping duties easily. He was a diligent reader after all. He organized Death's paperwork no problem. He missed his chance to apply today, but he request an interview first thing tomorrow...

Jack returned to his homestead building that night. He took a seat in the lobby. His aching feet couldn't carry him up the stairs without some rest. Jack deemed it safe to lower his hood. "Poor Zero..." He thought aloud. "He's been stuck in the apartment all day and I just don't have the energy to walk him." Jack sighed heavily. "Oh well...maybe tomorrow."

"Look whose home-"

Jack jumped in his chair. He hadn't heard Velika coming. She grinned down at him, fangs exposed. "It looks like you've had a long day."

Jack nodded. "I didn't have much luck in the witch's community, but I have another place I'm going to try tomorrow."

"There you go, darling. Just keep trying." She set a bowl of hot stew on the table. "Here, eat up before it gets cold."

Jack stared into the bowl longingly. He was hungry, starving actually, but he couldn't accept. "I'm sorry, Velika, but I don't have the money for dinner right now. I was just planning on ordering a cup of coffee."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. You're an honest kid, you'll pay me back when you can. Go ahead."

Jack grabbed a spoon. "Thank you" He said before digging in.

"You're welcome, darling. A sweet kid like you won't stay sweet unless he's cut a break once in a while." Velika took a seat across from him. "We failed to properly acquaint ourselves this morning." She began casually. "So where are you from?"

"T-the other side of town." He answered for a lack of a better one.

"What brings you to the neighborhood?"

Jack struggled to come up with a story. "Well, my parents are...down on their luck. I-I'm just...trying to live on my own for awhile until they can get back on their feet."

She frowned. "Everyone's struggling nowadays, except for ol' Zeph. I'm hoping his son can bring some order back to Halloween, but I doubt he will. You know those aristocratic types. They address their problems first and the hell with peons like you and I."

Jack slouched in his chair. He swallowed a spoonful of stew to avoid responding.

"I hadn't much better luck in the old country." She admitted. "I've scraped to survive for over half a century no matter where I go. At least in Halloween everything is more or less suited for us night creatures."

"I was born here. I've never lived in the real world, only scared there once or twice."

"Oh, you're a crypt creeper. Have much experience?"

Jack shrugged. "I'm better than I used to be. I've missed out on the past few Halloweens because of family troubles, but I hope to make a huge scene this year."

Velika smiled. Young enthusiasm is so cute. The relaxing moment turned sour when another tenant began to complain for some 'GODDAMN SERVICE!'. She shook her head, aggravated. "Enjoy the stew, darling, I have to get back to the kitchen."

"Goodnight, Velika" Jack watched closely as she walked away. Her movements were so smooth and fluent it was like living poetry. The tattered hem of her skirt brushed against the floor as her curvy hips swayed to and fro. Jack caught himself smiling foolishly as he stared. He shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it.

"You're through with women, remember?" He reminded himself mentally yet again. "She's not interested in you, she was just being hospitable. She's too old for you anyways. Its alright to look, but don't get carried away. The last thing you need to focus on right now is women..."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Evil Minds Scheme Alike

Disclaimer: I shall now express how I do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas with interpretive dance...Oh shit, that's right, you can't see me!

Jack worked up enough courage to ring the doorbell. He heard a crash and harsh mumbling from the other side. The iron door burst open. A horned creature (a demon from what Jack could tell) answered. He had the torso and face of a skinny old man in a green suit and the lower body of a goat. "Who are you?" He asked rudely, adjusting his glasses.

"Prof. Belphegor, I found your ad yesterday." Jack spoke nervously, fidgeting with his sleeves. "You're looking for a secretary...?"

"Of sorts...Come inside."

Prof. Belphegor escorted Jack to the laboratory. His hoofs clanged heavily against the dingy steel tiling. "You're a bit younger than what I was looking for." He admitted. "Are you sure you're up for the task?"

"I'm sure" Jack replied confidently. "I know look...unprofessional, but I'm an excellent reader with neat penmanship. I'm organized, tidy, attentive- I'm not very experienced with a typewriter, but I can learn quickly."

The professor tugged on his beard in thought. "Well, no one else has applied yet, so I suppose I could give you a shot."

Jack smiled. "Really? Thank y-" He tried to shake hands, but Prof. Belphegor backed away.

"First rule of thumb in my lab; no physical contact...What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, my name is Jack. I'm sorry, I-"

"I _hate_ that phrase" The professor sneered, his donkey-like tail twitched with annoyance. "Don't apologize either."

"Alright...Um, when should I start?"

"You're here, are you not? You will start right now." The professor threw Jack a pen and a notebook. "Everything I say, write down. I wish to keep excellent records of my research. Dictation will be much quicker and easier on me. When I say I need a tool, you will fetch it for me posthaste. I will order you to fetch lunch for me from time to time as well. At the end of the day, I expect you to organize all documents alphabetically. There will be no breaks, _no_ hesitations, _**no**_ backtalk! Do you understand? I pay according to performance, so don't be sloppy!"

"When is the end of the day, sir?"

Prof. Belphagor smiled, exposing several rows of jagged teeth. "That, Jack, is for me to decide...Come along. I'll show you around and then you may begin..."

Jericho looked over his shoulder as he helped Eli load up the Jack-o-lantern cart. He sighed with relief when he realized Angela was out of earshot. "Pa" He whispered. "I saw the Skellington boy yesterday."

Eli slapped him across the back of his head. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?" He hissed.

"I tried! Angela kept by my side 'til jus' now!"

"Well, what's the story, boy?"

"He's living somewhere in the slums. Say's he's still in school, but I know he's lying. So now that we know where he is, what's we gonna do about him, pa?"

Eli leaned against the cart, pausing to think. "I want you to go to the outskirts of town, way out near Dark Lagoon Lake. Beneath the biggest most cockeyed tree lives a monster by the name of Woogie Boogie. Find 'im and tell 'im Eli sent ya. He'll have a plan."

Jericho nodded. "I think Angela knows something's goin' on. She's actin' real suspicious like."

"She ain't goin' to find out nothin'!" Eli spat. "Don't let her out of yer sight, understand?"

"Yes pa..."

Angela walked along the freshly hoed path, scattering pumpkin seeds. She was completely bored out of her skull. She wanted to harvest the pumpkins with her father and brother, but they wouldn't let her. 'You'll throw yer delicate back out' they always told her.

She looked beyond the patch gate. From where she stood, she could see the west walls of Castle Skellington crumbling to the ground. It looked like Skellington Manor would be built after all. She doubted the rumors at first. The demolishing of Castle Skellington seemed impossible, but if its soaring walls could be constructed by ghoulish hands, it could fall by ghoulish hands.

The castle made her think of Jack. The recollection of his handsome skeleton face made her smile inwardly. She decided to look him up. Something told her Jack would not come around her area any time soon.

She quickened her pace. There would be no way her folks would allow her to leave the pumpkin patch, especially to visit a boy, but they didn't usually pry into her free time if the work was done first. "There's no harm in seeing what Jack's up to..."

Just beyond Halloween town's boarder where the cobblestone streets became unleveled dirt roads, a massive yet withered looking tree stood, marking the entrance of the second half of the forest.

Located beneath the roots a multicolored array of skeletons were being held hostage. They were entrapped in a bizarre torture devices displayed in a large underground chamber. The few still conscious moaned in agony, begging for release.

Their cries echoing throughout the poker themed chamber went on ignored. Deeper still, past the twisting corridors two shadowy figures stood over a pit of coals. They were nothing more than burlap sacks with holes cut in the front to look like faces, but to the rest of Halloween and most of the real world, their kind were known as boogiemen. The biggest and oldest of the two boogiemen laughed hysterically over the smoldering pit. The smaller, younger one cringed and looked away as if he would break down and cry at any moment.

"Good reddens!" The bigger boogieman (or boogieboy rather at the age of seventeen) sneered down at the charred remains of a much larger, much older boogieman. The insects that once provided him subsidence frantically tried to escape their burning torment. "I told you, hit me one more time, and see what would happen! Well, I hope you watched closely you son of a bitch!"

The younger boogieboy paced about, completely unnerved. "Look what we've done, Oogie!" He cried, holding the sides of his head. "How can we hide this? Someone will find out!"

Oogie snorted dismissively. "Do you really think anyone will care, Noogie? Once the news gets out Woogie Boogie Man is dead, those goodie ghouls floating around in town will celebrate." He chuckled. "Besides, he had it coming. Weren't you tired of being under his thumb? Never getting your fair share of the jackpots? Letting him use us as his punching bags?"

Noogie nodded. "Yes, but-but dad-"

"Dad was worthless to us!" Oogie barked. "We can run the casino- run it the way _we_ want to!" He grinned, stroking the grimy stone walls. "I have plans, Noogie, big plans. The undergrounds will be ours! This whole place will be packed with victims again! They will suffer- suffer in style!"

Noogie couldn't help but smirk triumphantly. "And we'll do it together, as a team, right?"

Oogie offered a fingerless, stitched up hand to shake. "Right."

The boogie brothers jumped as they heard a heavy thud echoing through the caves. "HELLO?" A stranger called out to them. "IS ANYONE HERE?"

It had taken Jericho all day to reach Boogie territory. He climbed into the chamber, disturbed by it's interior. His skin and clothes glowed eerily against the strange neon tiling. Yellow glowing bats scattered overhead, screeching in his face. He stumbled into something large and metallic.

He spun around to find a heat skeleton pinned between two beds of nails like sandwich meat. The skeleton reached out to him with his one unbusted arm. "Help...me!" He begged.

Jericho backed away, horrified. Suddenly he heard the sound of a crank turning. The nail beds compressed closer and closer together resulting in an explosion of crushed bone dust. Jericho gasped as the skeleton's one remaining arm twitched on the floor.

"The casino is closed" A disembodied voice informed him. "Get out, or we'll throw you out!"

"I-I'm not here for the casino." Jericho replied, looking about. "Not right now, anyways. I'm lookin' for Mr. Woogie Boogie."

Oogie's shadow self appeared. "Woogie is no longer in charge here, kid."

Noogie's shadow self followed. "Why? What do you want?"

Jericho stared up the shadowy figures as they sank into equally spooky burlap bodies. "The name's Jericho. I'm here on behalf of my father, Eli Patch. He has a job for Woogie. We fully intend to pay, a' course"

Oogie placed his arm around Jericho's shoulder. "Why didn't you say so? Who needs Woogie? We can take care of anyone you like. Who did you have in mind?"

"He's a skeleton" Jericho mentioned.

The Boogie brothers growled irritably. "You have our attention."

"We need you to get rid of Jack Skellington. We don' care how ya do it, just do it before this Halloween."

"Wait, Jack _Skellington_?" Noogie interrupted. "Is he-"

"Zephaniah Skellington's heir" Jericho confirmed. "You Boogies don' take kindly to Skellingtons, do you?"

"Bastards! Bastards, every Goddamn one of them!" Oogie shouted, slamming his fist in his palms. "They completely destroyed the Boogie name! Our dungeons use to be the envy of all Halloween town, striking fear into the hearts of dead and living alike!"

"Our work used to be respected. Our methods _upheld_ Halloween law." Noogie added.

"But the Skellington kings twisted the laws to make them look like heroes and us look like madmen! Cowards!"

"Politics is ugly business." Ah, rage, a maniacal scheme's most effective tool. "So y'all are willing to take the job?"

"You get us a bucket full of night crawlers and lure Jack to the opening of my- _our_ casino, and I promise you, he'll never see what's coming." Oogie vowed.

Jericho shook hands with each of them. "You got yerself a deal..."

"That's Oogie and Noogie Boogie to you." Oogie stated firmly. "Oh...just out of curiosity, why do you want bone boy wiped out?"

"We want to make sure you don't back out on us." Noogie explained.

Jericho hesitated. Was it wise to reveal his motives? He had to build their trust somehow. "Once he's out of the way, I get to take over as Pumpkin King. My blood's blue too. The Skellingtons just muddied it down like they did yer's. But when I'm king, you fine I'll restore honor to yer family name. You'll be executioners again, not criminals."

Oogie motioned for a huddle. "What do you make of him?" Noogie whispered.

"This guy is dumber than a box of rocks" Oogie replied. "But whether his story is legitimate or not, who cares? We'll get our hands on a Skellington!"

After sharing a laugh, Oogie approached Jericho. He patted him on the back, grinning deviously. "You know what? You're our brethren, distant brethren maybe, but still..." He nudged Jericho towards the exit. "Tell Eli we'll take care of everything. The casino opens at nightfall. I trust you know a way to drag Jack here?"

Jericho tipped his hat. "I certainly do. Good day to ya, Oogie, Noogie."

"Good...Now get lost, Jericho. We have work to do."

Jericho clawed his way back to the surface, relieved to see the jack-o-lantern sun staring down at him.

"I don't trust them Boogies as far as I can throw 'em." He admitted to himself as he dusted off his shirt. "But they seem like they mean business."

He took off down the road, eager to tell Eli the good news. Something occurred to him as he passed a home with lady's laundry hung out to dry in front. If anyone could lure Jack to the casino, Angela could...

Jack rushed out of the laboratory as fast as his weary legs could carry him. His hand clenched into a fist from writer's cramp. His eye sockets literally burned from staring at tiny print all day, but he had completed his job without a flaw. Prof. Belphegor was pleased, although he showed no outward signs of it.

Organizing the professor's work was much less fun than organizing Death's. Some tiny display of gratitude would have been appreciated, but Belphegor was simply incapable of such a thing. The old demon took too much pride in inventing new ways for mankind to 'inevitably collapse in on itself'. Then again, his research was funded by the 'red man' himself.

"I don't care what the old goat says." Jack said aloud as he turned towards the back alleyways. "Technology can be used for our benefit too. It will benefit Halloween someday, I'll make sure of it. There are minds out there capable of utilizing science for harmless fear somewhere. It's just up to me to find them."

Jack could here the professor's argument against that statement in his head. 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. He could here the demon's laughter too.

What a boss he was stuck with! Jack never like working with demons. No one in Halloween town did really. They were just like their master, cruel, emotionless, uncompassionate, and completely selfish. Most of them participated in Halloween for the soul purpose of watching mortals suffer, an insult to Holiday world's founding principles. Unfortunately, they were very scary creatures and boosted nightmare rank considerably since their arrival in the Halloween world centuries back. Thus, the other ghouls were forced to tolerate them.

They were just one more race of beings Jack had been warned to watch out for during his infancy. Why be so cynical? 'Some demons are different' Jack reminded himself. Some break away from their hellish roots and develop a conscience. The professor was not one of them. Those matters did not concern him now. He finally had a guarantee of steady pay. He hated working under Belphegor's hoof, but at lest his survival was ensured.

On his way to the pumpkin patch, Jericho spotted Jack sneaking to the back roads. "Wait!" He ran over to him, waving excitedly.

Jack perked up. "Hello! What are you doing out here?"

"Running errands. The demand fer jack-o-lanterns soar this time a year. What are you doin' so close to the Castle? Ain't you tryin' _not_ to get cought?"

"I had to work." Jack answered simply. "I've been cautious, don't worry."

"Work?" Jericho asked, amused. "What you workin' for? Ain't you rich?"

"My dad's not paying for any off campus living remember?"

Jericho shook his head. "Well that's no good. You look exhausted."

Jack chuckled. "You do too."

"Yeah, well, I do this kind a pullin' and liftin' every day. So, you clocked out for the night?"

"Yes, thank God."

"What are yer plans tonight? You gotta study or something?"

"Not...really. Why?"

"You feel like comin' with me to a friend's place? We play cards and relax for a while. It'll be fun."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know...I need to get back to my apartment. I have to walk my dog and-"

"Come on..." Jericho insisted. "You has gotta know a thing or two about poker. Hell, you win a game and you could walk away with three times what you earned today with a third of the work"

Jack paused to consider. He needed the money and a way to relieve stress. The offer was tempting. He'd rather earn his rent any other way than working for a devious wretch like Belphegor, but gambling is risky... "I'm a little busy tonight, Jericho, but maybe some other time. If its alright with your friends, I would be glad to join the game."

"Sounds fair to me. My friends are a swell bunch. They're real eager to meet ya." He tipped his hat politely and walked off. "Don't be a stranger, now, ya hear?"

Jack smiled. "So long."

Soon after nightfall, Jack shuffled through the front door. "Greetings, gentlemen" He said wearily to the corpses and ghouls lurking in the lobby.

They nodded their heads, barely acknowledging the young skeleton's existence. As Jack approached the dining hall, he heard whispering. Most of it he couldn't make out aside from a few scattered phrases like 'Gone for hours- Too quiet- Is hiding something- Drug pushing- In a gang- Her pimp- Criminal...'

Jack took a seat at one of the corner tables. Soon afterward Velika showed up with a cup of coffee in hand. "Cream and sugar, just the way you like, darling."

Jack took a sip, savoring the flavor. "Just what I needed. Velika, what is everyone whispering about back there?"

"Pay them no mind, Jack, its just harmless gossip." She said, waving her hand. "They're always like this around new arrivals, especially Benjamin and his little crew. They think all children are up to trouble." She quickly changed the subject. "How did the job hunt go today?" She asked, placing a cold hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Very well" Jack answered. "But I can't say I enjoy the work very much. Its only temporary though." He sighed. "I need to stop thinking about my old home."

"That's a hard thing to do. Just stick with it." She suggested. "May I sit? I'm on break."

"Of course" Jack stood to push in her chair for her.

"That is unnecessary, Jack I assure you."

Jack mentally blushed. "It's a force of habit.

She smiled. "No wonder you're so popular."

Jack raised a brow at her. "I wouldn't say popular...I did run into an old friend today though."

"Oh, so you know she's waiting for you?"

"No, I- wait! _She_?"

"A girl came by earlier looking for you. Pretty little girl too. I remember when I had a figure like that, but I suppose everyone reminisces about their living days." Velika winked. "You've done well for yourself, darling."

"What are you talking about?"

"The scarecrow girl, Angela I think she said her name was. She told me you know her. She wanted to drop off a pie to you, but you weren't home, so I sent her to your room. I would have escorted her, but vampires can't enter a home without consent."

"You're welcome in my room any time. It's your boardinghouse." Jack assured her.

Velika ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. "Why did you go and say a foolish thing like that? Its never wise to welcome a vampire, you know."

"It's alright, I trust..." Suddenly, the full weight of the situation revealed itself to Jack. "Angela's here? Right Now? In my room? What does she want?"

"You tell me, Romeo."

"W-what do I do?"

Velika chuckled. "Don't fret, darling. Go upstairs and meet her quickly. I sensed little patience in her."

"Thank you!" Jack sprung out of his seat and dashed towards the stairs.

Velika cleaned up his mess and returned to the kitchen. A sense of worry came over her. It grew stronger every time she spoke to the young skeleton. 'How can such a thick cloud of trouble loom over such a nice child?' She wondered. Velika prayed she wouldn't find out. She would hate to see Jack as anything less than innocent.

a/n: Thanks to anyone still reading this. This story will not drag on much longer. Shit _will_ hit the fan soon, head banger's honor. Please review! I fully intend to finish this story, but its always nice to have an incentive.

P.S: No Jack origin story would be complete without Oogie Boogie. For those who hadn't read 'As the Nightmare Continues' the OC, Noogie Boogie is Oogie's younger, nearly identical brother (I don't know if there are boogiewomen or how they give birth. I'm guessing they make their children by hand like warlocks conjure sliths. My guess is as good as yours). Obviously, this story takes place before Noogie grows up, develops an extreme hatred for Oogie, discovers metal, sews a bunch of band patches to himself, learns to play electric bass and runs away to the real world to become a roadie for Motorhead and all that other ridiculous bullcrap I came up with. Um...thanks for follow this. You rule! Until next time, rock on guys...


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: It's Personal

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Tim Burton owns everything, no one is sued.

When Jack opened the door the first thing he noticed was Angela sitting on his bed, playing tug-of-war with Zero. She jumped, startled. "OH! Hello Jack" She greeted him embarrassed. "I like yer dog. Where'd you get him?"

"A friend gave him to me." Jack shut the door. "What are you doing here? H-how did you find out here?"

Angela looked to her lap, fidgeting with the frayed hem of her skirt. "I haven't been sittin' here long, if that's what yer wonderin'. I was headin' fer the school, in case you was at supper er something. I stopped and asked directions from Miss Velika. She told me you was out, but you'd be back."

"Y-you didn't tell her about me did you? I mean-"

"Yer tryin' to keep the pumpkin prince thing a secret, I know. I ain't stupid Jack. I ain't got a fancy education like you, but I ain't stupid. No, all I said was, 'Have you seen a tall skeleton around here by any chance?' That's all."

Jack sighed. "Good. I wasn't accusing you of anything, I just...never mind." He noticed the pumpkin pie sitting on the nightstand. "Is that for me?"

Angela smiled. "Yup. I baked it for you earlier, but it's cold by now."

Jack didn't care, he was starving. The pie could have been frozen solid and he'd still try to wolf it down. He took a few bites, nodded approvingly and said "It's delicious, Angela, but you didn't have to go through the trouble-"

"No trouble. I like to bake. Ain't great at it yet, but I'll learn."

The pie was gone in no time. Angela laughed as Jack wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"What?"

"All this time away from the Castle has turned you into a slob." She teased.

"Well, you didn't bring a napkin." He teased back. "I can't believe your parents let you walk all the way out here. Aren't they worried?"

"They think I'm picking crabapples with a friend." She admitted. "Ma will let me stay out as late as I want if Jericho's with me or if I'm with other girls. It gets real bothersome."

Jack shrugged. "They just worry about you. I would too. The streets are dangerous at night, believe me."

Angela chuckled. Jack could have sworn she smirked. It was fun to imagine what her facial expressions would be. "You ain't gotta walk me home. I can make it back just fine. Mind if I stay awhile? It was a long walk."

"Not at all."

She sighed with relief. "Good, 'cause I need to talk to someone."

Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Things don't feel right at home anymore. Pa's actin' kind of strange. Jericho's actin _real_ strange. It's got me worried. He thinks I hadn't noticed." She laughed. "I love my brother, but he ain't too bright sometimes."

"What exactly do you mean by strange?"

Angela scratched under her hat in thought. "I can't explain it. Its almost like he's tryin' to hide something."

Jack paused to think. What could a simple hic like Jericho possibly have to hide? "Has he been sneaking around lately? You know, disappearing off and on? Keeping to himself?"

"Yeah!"

"He might be smitten with someone." Jack suggested. "Are your parents comfortable with dating?"

"Fer me, no, but Jericho..." Angela trailed off. Jericho was seeing some girl! Of course, that made perfect sense. He was the most bashful person she knew. She laughed. "He's going to get an ear full when I get back!"

"Aw, be nice to him. Relationships are personal. I can see why he's shy about telling anyone."

Angela scooted closer to him. "Yer actin' strange too." She informed him. "Then again, you were always kind of strange to us. I couldn't tell if it was just the way you were or if it was the aristocratic lifestyle you lived."

"A lot of strange things have happened to me recently. Well, more so unfortunate than strange. It doesn't matter. Things are looking up now that I'm away from the castle."

"You don' get along with Zeph, do you?"

"How could I? He's a tyrant!" Jack shook his head. "I really don't want to get into it. There's no point anymore. He can't manipulate me out here, that's all I care about." He looked to wall, fixed in deep thought. "I've learned a lot about myself since I left home. I didn't feel this way at first, but I'm starting to like the person I've changed into."

"Has Zeph noticed the changes at all?"

Jack shook his head. "No and even if he did, he wouldn't like them. I don't care. I have to better myself. Not just for my sake, but for Halloween's too. I can't believe he's been pumpkin king for three centuries and still cannot understand that." He snorted in disgust. "What a waste..."

"I wish I could soul search like you've been." Angela began. "Its hard when yer workin' the fields all day. I don' wanna leave the patch or anything. I just wish someone would listen to my thoughts once in a while. Pa doesn't seem to think I have any."

"Well, there must be something wrong with him." Jack replied. "I couldn't believe how much you've changed when I ran into you yesterday."

Angela placed her hand over his. "I don think I've changed, just matured some. Thank you though."

Jack's hand shook. She was looking at him, anticipating a response. What should he do? A beautiful girl was sitting right next to him in the privacy of his own apartment and he couldn't think of a single thing...Well, he thought of one thing.

He leaned forward and gave Angela a kiss. She pulled away from him before he attempted Frenching. "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't do that with you."

"Oh, I-I understand. I didn't mean to be so-"

She shushed him. "But I can do this..." She stood and unbuttoned her blouse. Jack stared wide-eyed as each unfastened button exposed more and more of her breast.

Jack couldn't believe it- breasts! He had seen pairs in paintings before, sure, but now they were right there in front of him- round, perky, tangible.

Next, she removed her skirt. From the slit to her naval was a line of black stitches. Jack's eye sockets traveled up and down the stitching countless times. Her loins were so tight, so clean, and so natural. He knew in a second Angela was still a virgin. Was she choosing him to be her first?

Angela grew impatient. "You can touch 'em if you want."

Jack snapped himself out of his trance. "Sure" He replied, voice cracking. He reached out and grabbed her left one (because it was the larger of the two). Next, he grabbed the right. They weren't overly big, but oh how they were firm.

He tried to be gentle, but the urge to squeeze overpowered him. They bulged in between his finger bones. His breathing became heavy. He dropped them, watching closely as they bounced upon his release.

Jack's silence made her uncomfortable. "So, what do you think?"

"I think you're beautiful."

"Yer sweet" She stepped closer and gently stroked his sternum. "Its nice to be complemented by an intellectual and not some pig. I wanna soul search tonight- find out what kind of woman I am. You think you could help me do that?"

Jack smiled. "With pleasure." He stood to strip down himself. When he was ready, he dimmed the lampshade and locked the door. Angela placed her hat on the doorknob. She sprawled out the bed, inviting Jack to climb on top.

Zero hovered at the edge of the bed, watching. He barked at them excitedly as if to cheer Jack on. He was no puppy. He knew what his master was up to.

The rickety old bed creaked with the motion. Jack didn't hold back. Why should he? If the neighbors wanted something to whisper about, he'd give it to them...

A long, passionate while later, the room was still. Jack fell asleep with Angela in his arms. Before he drifted off, he took back everything he ever said about women. They were fully capable of bringing happiness. Pestilence was not a mistake. He was grateful they had separated the way they did. She had satisfied him and taught him to satisfy. Without Pestilence, he would have never known what to do with Angela. It felt wonderful to have someone to confide in again, mentally and physically.

Angela forced herself to wake up. She gently rolled out of bed. Luckily for her, Jack was a heavy sleeper. Zero stirred, but she motioned for him to keep quiet while she dressed. She would have given anything to stay in bed with Jack, but if she didn't return home it would get ugly.

She stroked Jack's hair. "See you around." She whispered before showing herself out.

The moon shined in the highest point of the sky. Angela ran. There was no way she could come up with an excuse now. She was so busy worring about what her parents would say, she didn't notice a tall figure trailing her.

Someone reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Don't scream, its me!"

Angela gasped, struggling to calm herself. "Damn you, Jericho!" She hissed, swatting him with her hat. "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"Sorry. I've been lookin' all over for you! Where have you been?"

"Where have _you_ been? You've been gone a lot longer than me!" She barked defensively.

Jericho crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't you worry yer pretty little head about me, Angela. This don' concern you."

"The hell it don'! I'm tired of you treating like I'm helpless!" She cried, tossing her hat to the ground. "Something is wrong with you and if you don't tell me what is is, I'm gonna-"

"I told you, this don' concern you!" Jericho snapped. "All you need to know is I'm doing something that'll affect this whole family, so you best not get in my way or so help me, I'll rip you apart!"

Angela backed away. This wasn't like Jericho at all. He'd never threatened her before, or anyone else for that matter. She approached him slowly, took his hand and said as softly as she could "I don't wanna get in yer way. I think its sweet you found somebody. We's growin' up. Ma and Pa'll understand that. They'll be sore at first, but they'll be happy for you, Jericho, I know it."

Jericho cocked his head in confusion. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Don' play dumb. I know about yer sweetheart. You don' need to tiptoe around me anymore. I've done it too."

"_Done_ it?" Jericho froze. Angela thinks he's fooling around with someone and she ran off and did the same thing! This was definitely not something to report to Eli. "Fine, you caught me." He said just to play along. "But I-I don' think it's a good idea to introduce her to the folks."

"Will you introduce me to her? I want to meet her."

"Soon, I promise, but only if you tell me who yer seeing."

She looked to her feet. "Well, it happened real sudden-like."

"What happened?"

"Promise you won't get mad at me?"

"Only if you don' spit it out!"

"I snuck out to see Jack tonight." She confessed. "That's why I was gone fer so long."

Jericho cringed. "Y-y-you..."

"You said you wouldn't get mad!"

"I'm not mad" He insisted. "I'm...really shocked and a little disgusted, but I ain't _mad_. What in the hell is wrong with you, Angela? Yer just a little girl!"

"No I'm not, I'm fifteen! I can make my own decisions now. I don't regret one moment with Jack and there ain't nothin' you can say to make me regret it!"

Jericho leaned against a lamppost, fighting the urge to faint. "It was a mistake! You ought not have slept with him!"

"Why? Jack is a wonderful person! You said you like him!" She argued.

"Well, sure, he's a nice guy, but you hardly know him. Trust me, he'd never really care for you. Yer not his type."

"You don' know that!"

"But he's a-a prince! He's gonna turn around and leave you for royalty the moment he becomes king!"

Angela stormed off, unwilling to listen to another word.

Jericho chased after her. "Stop!" He begged. "Look, maybe I'm just bein' paranoid, but I don' want you getting' hurt."

"Let me worry about that."

Jericho sighed. Why was he cursed with such a stubborn sister? "I'm happy for ya, really, I am. I don't know much about these things, but I-I've always been able to trust yer judgment before. I won't keep you from seein' Jack again, if that's what makes you happy."

Angela gave him a big hug. "Thanks... Come on, lets go home and get in bed. Help me think of a cover story fer ma and pa on the way, would ya? If they ask, we was-"

"Wait-" He interrupted. "I-if Jack means this much to you, I want to test him out before you two get serious."

"Jericho-"

"Don' Jericho me, I won't embarrass him." He swore. "I just wanna make sure he's good to you. I have to. Yer my little sister after all. Besides, better by me then by pa, right?"

"True. So what do you have in mind?"

Jericho paused to think. "Well, I was hopin' I could convince Jack to come with me to a poker party me and a few friends are throwin' next weekend. He didn't seem to keen on it when I asked him, though. Think he'd be willin' to come if you invite him?"

Angela nodded excitedly. "I'm sure he'll agree to it. It'll be like a date."

"Great. I'll sum him up there."

Nothing about this scheme seemed honorable to Jericho. It was one thing to remove Jack from his life, but from Angela's? He prayed her feelings for Jack were just part of some sissy girl phase she was going through. If not, she would be heartbroken, not to mention furious with him for the rest of their existence.

But he had to follow through with the plans. Everything was running so smoothly and he was in too deep to back out now. Plus, he couldn't let his father down. Too much was at stake. Jericho had no choice. Angela would just have to learn to hate Jack...


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Death's Warning

Disclaimer: All legal rights to the Nightmare Before Christmas goes to its creator, Tim Burton.

In the middle of carrying a dirty tray of dishes back to the kitchen, Velika noticed Jack was not sitting in his usual spot. Usually, he was back, waiting for a cup of coffee with his little scarecrow friend by this time of night.

Over the past week, Angela had come to visit Jack every night. They would sit in the lounge, eat, chat, or just enjoy the other's company. Velika listened in on them as often as she could. She knew she shouldn't, but they made such a cute couple. Besides, someone had to watch and make sure the other tenants didn't hassle them.

Jack did most of the talking (because he was naturally more eloquent). Angela usually sat and listened as he went on and on about his new, frightening ideas for Halloween. If Velika didn't know better, she would have thought Jack was a pumpkin king or something. She laughed at the idea as she threw the dishes in the sink for the cooks to wash.

Suddenly, she heard bell ringing in the lobby. Velika burst through the curtains and approached the counter. "May I help y-" She jumped back when she recognized the cloaked, scythe-wielding figure before her.

Death jumped back as well, entranced by Velika's beauty. He was grateful he had taken his usual form that day or he might have overlooked her stunning features. "Good evening" He said, lowering his hood to expose his smiling skeletal face. "I'm looking for someone, dear. Does a young skeleton named Jack board here by any chance."

Velika smiled back at him. "Yes, he does. But why would you be looking for him? He's-"

"Already dead?" Death laughed. "Yes I know, but I'm a friend of his family you see and I've come to check in on him."

"Well, usually he's back and in his room by now, but he hasn't returned yet. He's probably working late. If you wish to stay awhile, I'm sure Jack will be here shortly."

Death paused to consider. "Very well." He took Velika's hand and gave it a kiss. "Care to keep an old ghoul company while he waits?"

She mentally blushed. Who knew Death could be so charming? "Aren't you a fiery one?" She teased. "Strange... Why haven't we met before?"

"Vampires are out of my jurisdiction. The undead I cannot reap. Odd, I know, but rules are rules. It's a shame, isn't it?"

Velika leaned forward on the counter, revealing her ample cleavage. "Would you like to sit, Reaper? You look like you've traveled a long way."

"You haven't a clue, my dear." He took her hand again and gave her kisses all the way up her arm. "And please, Call me, Death. I most comfortable with that name."

"Velika" She stated her name before stepping out from behind the counter. "Follow me, darling. I know where we can have some privacy."

An overwhelming sense of excitement came over Death as she took his hand and lead him to the stairs. He went along willingly. He decided after a few thousand years, it was high time he jumped back in the dating game.

Jack and Jericho walked up the street. They shared a laugh after Jericho finished yet another colorful story. Jack couldn't believe how much fun it is pal around with him. He had watched other lumplings play together in the streets below the Castle as a small child. The whole time he longed to join them, but his parents wouldn't allow it. A few times he snuck out to Guillotine Square to join the fun, but the other lumplings avoided him like a pox. Jericho was only one who ever bothered to say hello, but his parents didn't allow him to play much, only work. It felt great to finally break away from all that.

Jack stopped by the Homestead's entrance. "Wait here." He instructed. "I just need to grab a few things and we'll be on our way."

"Hurry up e'for we're late."

Jack nodded then ran inside.

Jericho watched under a streetlamp. His straw-filled innards were churning up a storm. Jack really wasn't a bad guy. A little stuck up, maybe, but he never acted that way intentionally. It was just his upbringing. Jericho respected him and in some ways even admired him.

He told himself over and over he could go through with this, no matter how much his conscience told him he couldn't. Eli wouldn't let him give up even if he admitted he wanted to. The old scarecrow threatened his existence every time he hinted in that direction, so Jericho just gave in entirely. Everything about this felt wrong though. 'Even if this works and I'm crowned king Halloween, could I really live with myself?' Jericho asked inwardly.

Jack rushed up the stairs as fast as he could. As he reached into his pocket to fish out his keys he heard muffled creaking and giggling from the other side of the door.

Slightly unnerved, Jack ripped his door open. He nearly went blind when he discovered another skeleton on his bead atop a naked woman. All three ghouls screamed. Jack slammed the door shut behind him. He collapsed against the door and buried his face in his hands, trying to erase the image burning in his skull. "What is going on!" He shouted, frightened and angry.

Death and Velika scrambled to get dressed. "So sorry, Jack!" Death shouted through the walls.

"Death?" Jack cried. "W-what are you- How did you- Ah!"

"Calm down, darling, its safe." Velika announced the moment they were fully covered.

Cringing, Jack stepped inside, unable to look at either one of them directly. "What do you two think you're doing?" Jack demanded.

"We didn't think you'd be home so soon." Death explained.

"That doesn't make this alright!"

"You should really get in the habit of knocking, son."

"Death, it's my room!" Jack cried, voice cracking. "Why in hell would I knock?"

"A thousand apologies, but I couldn't resist-" Death reached out and held Velika close to him. "I only come across a creature as gorgeous as her once in sixty blue moons."

Flattered, Velika giggled as she kissed his cheek. "You know some pretty amazing people, Jack. Not an ounce of blood in him and he still managed to please me."

"Couldn't you have...in _your_ room?" Jack asked her crossly.

"Have you ever tried to in a coffin, darling?" She asked, securing her see-through robe tightly. "You bump your head too much. Not very comfortable at all, really."

Jack resisted his urge to vomit. "I can't believe...Forget it. Congratulations to both of you, now clear out!" He stomped past them, reached under his bed.

Death raised a brow at him as he filled his pockets with money. "What are you doing, son?"

"I'm going out with a few friends tonight." He announced. "I won't be back until late, but that doesn't mean you two can stay and fool around."

"I told you it's unwise to welcome a vampire into your home unless you really mean it." She reminded him.

"Wait!" Death interrupted. "Going out with a few friends? Jack, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He's right, darling. You must be careful out there. Mixing royalty in with the wrong crowd will surely ask for trouble."

Jack glared at Death.

"It slipped" He confessed.

"I appreciate your concern, but I've managed to make it just fine on my own so far." Jack brushed off his cloak. "I've busted my back all week at Belphegor's and I disserve to unwind. It's just a game of poker. I'm not going to bet anything more I'm willing to lose."

"But Jack-" Death reached out to him. "Skellington Manner is almost half way complete. Rumors are spreading-"

"Gee, I wonder why." Jack sneered sarcastically.

"Listen! I came by to check up on you. I've been feeling a lot of bad vibrations in the air. I could have sworn something terrible happened to you. I contacted Pestilence. She sensed the same thing."

"No, actually everything's been going fairly well for me. I have a job and a real social life for once. As for Pestilence, tell her I don't need her. There's someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me, my friend is waiting for me out front" Jack tapped his thighbone twice. "Come on, Zero! We're gong to a party."

Zero appeared through the floor, barking excitedly. He followed Jack out the door.

"Lock my door on your way out" Jack ordered. "And Velika, wash my sheets, would you? I'll see you two later."

He slammed the door shut behind him.

Death sighed as he took a seat on the bed. Velika sat beside him and put a comforting arm over his shoulder. "We just startled him, darling, that's all."

"Maybe I'm just being paranoid... He's practically grown. He doesn't need my protection, but still, I can't help but feel something is wrong."

"If you ask me, any prince who runs away to this dump is begging for protection." She stroked his thighbone gently. "You two are close, aren't you?"

"He's like a son to me." He admitted. "You would understand. You had three yourself. I met two of them-"

"But my oldest was out of your jurisdiction" She finished for him, ashamed.

"No one can be held accountable for what happens on their first bloodlust." Death mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry; I need to learn when not to discuss work."

Velika shook her head. "Forget it, darling." She stood, readjusting her robe once more. "We better leave. It's rude of us to linger."

"Quite." Death covered his face with his hood before grabbing his scythe. "I must get back to work. If I don't start reaping again soon, I'll be in big trouble. Jack will be fine, I suppose."

Velika looked into his eye sockets. "Will you stop by and see me again, sometime, darling?"

Death grinned. "I'll always knock, sweetheart." He swept her up by her butt and gave her a goodbye kiss."

Jack stomped outside with an aggravated look on his face. "What's wrong?" Jericho asked.

"Nothing" Jack insisted. "Just some neighbor troubles. I took care of it. Let's go."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Lion's Den

Disclaimer: Tim Burton is my idol and I would never try to claim I own something he created. NEVER!

Jack stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the gigantic crooked tree waiting for him at the bottom of the hill.

Jericho tugged on his arm, snapping him out of his trance. "Jack? Jack, what's wrong?"

"You didn't tell me we have to go through Boogie territory." Jack hissed.

"Actually, we're goin' down into the heart of it."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Are you insane? I can't go down there! I'll never walk out in one piece! I'll never walk out at all!"

"I knew you wouldn't show if I said anythin',"

Jack started to walk away, but Jericho pulled him back.

"You got it all wrong! Ain't no one gonna touch you." He swore. "They don' even know yer a Skellington and even if they did, yer still safe. Woogie Boogie's dead. His sons own the undergrounds now."

"How do you know?"

"They're friends of mine. Trust me, ain' no one gonna be bothered by Woogie again" Jericho insisted. "Oogie and Noogie are just tryin' to pick up the pieces. They insisted I bring a skeleton friend to prove they're goin' straight from now on."

"I don't know..."

"Are you gonna spend the rest of yer afterlife carrying on a feud our fathers started or do you wanna be the bigger ghoul and make peace?"

Jack paused to think. He had been told countless horror stories about the Boogies and their vendetta against skeletons, the Skellington family in particular. They wanted to control Halloween and went to insanely drastic measures to do it. Boogie's didn't care who they hurt to get ahead. In fact, they preferred violent tactics. Then again, this was a new generation. Maybe these Oogie and Noogie fellows were sick of the struggle. Who could blame them? Jack certainly didn't want to spend his reign rescuing imprisoned skeletons from Boogie's lair and battling over supremacy. "Alright, I do it." He agreed. "But only to keep the peace."

Jericho slapped him on the back. "You just made Halloween real proud, Jack."

Jack forced a smile as he allowed himself to be lead to the tree. Jack finally worked up the nerve to follow. The farther down the walls he crept the more nervous he became. He wished Angela had come along. At least she would have been extra company.

Jack looked about. The casino was packed with young, unscrupulous looking ghouls. Thugs of every species (minus skeletons) lounged about, playing games or partaking of the refreshments.

Jack accidentally bumped into a gunman slot machine. It fired into a corpse's chest. "Thanks a lot, jackass!" He barked, unfazed by the blast. "You jinxed me!"

Jack rushed over to Jericho's side before a fight could break out. "Isn't this a hoot?" He asked over the commotion.

"That's one word for it..." Jack coughed as a potent cloud of smoke filled his nostrils. It wasn't any tobacco Death had ever smoked, that's for sure. Jack spotted a small group of drow sitting in a large circle beneath the hanging eight ball. They passed a huge, misshapen pipe. The room fogged up as they exhaled.

Jack looked away before they realized he was staring. Jericho jumped in the air, waving shamelessly. "OVER HERE, BOYS!" He shouted.

Jack swallowed a lump in his throat as two large glowing green figures waddled their way through the crowd.

The taller of the two offered Jack a handshake. "Well, well, well, look what we here. Put her there, bone man."

Jack reluctantly complied. As he expected, everything about Oogie screamed two-faced.

Jericho stepped forward. "Oogie, Noogie, this is my good friend, Jack. Jack these are the Boogie brothers, Oogie and Noogie. "

"Welcome to my- our casino. Just got it running today, which reminds me-" Oogie stomped his foot, shaking the entire chasm. "Listen up, dirt bags!" He shouted to get everyone's attention. "This here's Jack, the first skeleton stupid enough to crawl down here since the night of the two thousand bone pile up! Give him a round of applause!"

The crowd clapped for Jack, cheering, whistling, and tapping their drinks together in the air. He felt embarrassed, but at the same time, flattered.

Oogie motioned for silence. "Boogie's Casino is officially open for business!" He announced proudly. "Die it up tonight, people, come on!"

Again, the crowd cheered and then went back to their business. "There, my hosting duties are out of the way for the night." Oogie looked to Jack. "So, you feeling lucky?"

"Actually I am." He admitted. "Although, I've never played in a casino before."

Oogie laughed, exposing a hissing snake tongue. "You're in for a treat, Jackie boy." Oogie slammed his fist on an unoccupied rack, causing a pair of dice to bounce in his grip. He threw the dice at the ceiling and the neon bat they hit flew down to Oogie with a deck of cards in its teeth. "Jericho, you in?"

He nodded. "You know it."

"What about you, bone man."

"That's what I came for."

"And I know you're up for a round, Noogie." Oogie smiled. "Great, follow me."

Oogie led them to a roped off corridor just far enough away from the other ghouls to give them some thinking space. They took a seat around a large circular table with a skull-like spade designs imbedded in the glowing red surface.

Not a moment after they sat did four women walk up to the table. A black widow creature hung over Oogie's shoulder, stroking his chest and nibbling on his neck. A scorpion woman hung over Noogie. Two pale corpses with discolored skin and hair strutted in behind them, both curvy and scantly clad. The one dressed as a queen of clubs sat on Jericho's lap and the one dressed as the queen of hearts sat on Jack's.

"Like the entertainment?" Oogie asked.

"Well, I-I shouldn't..." Jack trailed off as the corpse stoked his hair gently, gazing into his eye sockets.

Jericho elbowed him. "Come on...What Angela don' know, won't hurt her."

Jack giggled as the corpse tickled his chin affectionately. Someone tapped on Jack's shoulder from behind. He looked back, horrified to find Angela glaring down at him. "Don' y'all look cute" She sneered.

Jack let out a scream as he shoved the corpse off his lap. "Angela it's not what it looks like, I swear! I-I've never seen her before! She jus walked up to me and-"

"Calm down," Angela interrupted. "I was just givin' you a little shock, that's all."

"I told you, you weren't invited" Jericho hissed up at her.

"I invited myself." She hissed back.

"You're welcomed to sit right here on my lap, doll face" Oogie offered with a mischievous grin."

"She's with me" Jack corrected him, pulling Angela away.

"Relax, Valentino he was just foolin'." Noogie snickered. "Besides, its me you have to worry about."

"Enough, boys, that's my sister yer oglin'." Jericho reminded them.

"Alright, alright, enough small talk! Angela, pull up a chair, make you're little boner boy comfortable..." Oogie shuffled and then cut the cards. "We'll start out simple- a five card draw. Jokers are wild. No limits. Don't even try counting the cards. I can spot cheating a mile away. If anyone has a problem with my rules, too damn bad."

No one backed down. Oogie started the pot off at ten. Noogie raised him five. Jack tried to keep his mind on the jackpot, but the casino was very distracting. Too much was going on in the background to really concentrate. He guessed Oogie set it up that way on purpose to insure frequent victories.

Oogie whistled. A flock of bats brought over a pitcher of beer and a swarm of roaches carried six empty mugs on their backs. The widow and the scorpion began to fill the glasses. Oogie raised his mug. "Who's up for drinks?"

Everyone replied, "I am" enthusiastically, but Jack.

"Thank you, but no thank you. I don't drink."

Oogie glared at him. "I don't trust a ghoul who doesn't drink." He noticed the look of anxiety on Jack's face and laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Lighten up, would you? You won't last ten minutes with us if you stay this uptight."

"Yeah, what's the matter Jack, too good for us?" Noogie's laughing was cut short by a slap to back of the head.

"Shut up, you boob!" He hissed. "You're slowing us down."

Jack forced a chuckle. "Lets not bicker, fellows." He looked over his hand and called ten. "I'm sorry to hear about your father." Jack scolded himself inwardly. 'Why would you mention that, you idiot!' He scolded himself inwardly. Noogie looked over his hand. "Don't be. We never liked him."

"The old bastard got what he deserved." Oogie added. "We have a nice little setup going without him anyways."

"How did you pull all this off?" Jack asked, changing subjects quickly.

"It took some old money and a lot of connections." Oogie explained, grinning up at the black widow. "I've always been a business man of sorts. There's too much potential in this joint to let it go to waste."

"I fold." Jericho sighed regretfully.

"Aw, too bad..." Oogie replied with false sympathy. "Looks like that poker face isn't doing you much good tonight. Ha! Ha1 ha! Ha!"

"We'll see" Noogie sneered. Everyone discarded three cards from their hands and drew three more, Noogie raised twenty and the game continued.

The game ended in Oogie's victory. He slammed his cards on the table grinning triumphantly. "Read 'em and weep, boys. Straight Flush!" He laughed at the others as they sighed and tossed the money they owed to the center of the table.

Oogie raked in the jackpot and stored it in a secret compartment in the wall. "Who's up for another round?" He asked, shuffling the deck.

"I'm quitting now, before I lose my shirt." Jack declined. He nearly lost an entire week's pay in one night. He wasn't about to lose another week's on top of that.

"Same here." Jericho added. "Pa's gonna kill me."

"Serve's you right" Angela scolded him. "Don' turn this into a habit." She warned.

"Quit nagging him, doll face." Oogie ordered, teasing her hair. "He's his own ghoul. He can gamble if he wants."

"Don't touch her!" Jack warned, slapping Oogie's hand away.

Oogie laughed, elbowing Noogie playfully. "Isn't that cute! He's protecting his little dolly."

"Didn't your mommy teach you to share your toys?" Noogie added.

Jack stood, irritated. "That's it, I'm leaving. Good night, gentlemen, I can't say its been a pleasure. Come on, help me find Zero and let's go." He grabbed Angela's hand and tried to pull her along.

Angela jerked her hand free. "But I just got here!"

"Look, I'm-"

"Don' leave just yet" Jericho begged. "They was just foolin'. Weren't you?" he hissed at the Boogie brothers.

Oogie and Noogie put on innocent smiles. "Yeah, we were pulling your leg, that's all." Noogie insisted.

"What did I tell you earlier about being uptight?" Oogie wrapped his arm around Jack and pulled him close to his side. "Besides, you ain't goin' nowhere." He stomped his foot again, instantly gaining everyone's attention. "WHO'S UP FOR FRESH AIR?" He shouted enthusiastically.

Everyone cheered as they scrambled for the exits. Jack watched nervously as the other ghouls clawed their way to the surface. "What's going on?" He asked.

Oogie smirked. "I'm taking the party outside. You know, to let the place air out. Come with me, Jackie boy, you look stiff as a board."

The casino crowd gathered around the tree. The full moon and a bonfire provided light. Noogie whipped out a bass and began to play a low, sped up dirge. The ghouls talked amongst themselves, drinking, dancing, and making spooky faces at one another. The drow continued their smoking circle around the tree. Several other spooks joined them.

Angela sat by Noogie feet, looking up at him, enchanted by his song. Jack did not look so impressed. "I never guessed yer a musician." She said. "You play beautifully."

"Keep listening, babe. I have a nice sonata lined up for you." He replied, winking.

Jack pouted, feeling a slight sense of betrayal. How did that fat bag of bugs become so suave all of a sudden?

Angela nudged his shoulder. "Wanna dance?" She asked, offering him a hand.

Jack pouted. "Not now."

"Oh come on..." She begged. "This song is beautiful! Why don' you wanna dance?"

"I'm just not in the mood." He whispered.

Angela placed her hand on her hips. Jack could imagine her face scowling at him. "Oh, I get it. Its perfectly fine to grope that cheep stripper in front of the boys, but it's unmanly to dance with me."

"No, it's not nothing like that, I just...I feel out of place here. Everyone is watching me. I-I just don't feel comfortable."

Angela placed his hand over his. "Maybe if you joined the fun, you'd relax. I've been looking forward to goin' out with you all week. Come on, Jack...one dance?"

Jack sighed, defeated. "Alright, one dance." He stood, pulling Angela up with him and lead them in a slow dance.

Jericho watched as he leaned against the big tree. The sight of his sister in Jack's arms made him cringe. 'Damn' He thought. 'I thought I put him the doghouse fer sure earlier...' He adjusted his hat, tipping the brim over his eyes.

Oogie spotted him. "The signal..." He whispered grinning. "Give that thing a rest, would you?" Oogie begged Noogie. "I hear enough of that racket down below."

"You have no taste!" Noogie sneered, continuing his solo.

Oogie flashed his brother a dismissive hand gesture before waddling over to Jack and Angela. He popped up between them, splitting them apart. "Mind if I cut in?" He asked, twirling Angela. "It looks like your head is somewhere else anyways."

Angela looked to Jack. "He's right. You usually like to dance."

Jack shrugged. "I'm sorry...I've never been able to handle myself well in strange crowds."

"Strange?" Oogie asked, cocking his head. "It took us all week to set this up for you. How about showing a little gratitude?"

Jack raised a brow at him. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Jericho came up behind him, silent as a shadow and placed his hand on Jack's shoulder. "We have a surprise for you." He said, tightening his grip. "I think yer gonna love it."

Oogie whistled loudly. The crowd cleared a path from the forest entrance to Oogie's side. Jack looked towards the woods. A pair of troll skeletons bound in chains dragged a large statue of some kind behind them.

Jack's eyes widened as the identity of the statue revealed itself through the trees. It was a giant replica of Zephaniah made from straw, reeds and kindling. The crowd cheered wildly as the troll skeletons lit the statue ablaze at its feet.

"What is this?" Jack demanded.

"The end of an era, Jackie boy." Oogie answered.

"Think of this as an early send off" Jericho added.

Jack gazed at the flaming statue, mortified. "You can't do this! Its an act of treason!"

"Aw, sticking up for daddy are we? HA!" Before Angela could make a move, Oogie twisted Angela's hand behind her back and forced her to kneel. "It's a little late, don't you think, Jack?"

"Let her go!" Jack ordered.

Angela cried out as Oogie twisted her arm further. "Not so fast, Skellington!" Oogie snapped. "Back off or else"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" The crowed cheered repeatedly as they encircled the statue, creating an...an arena.

Horrified, Jack looked to Jericho desperately. "Are you just going to stand there? Help her!"

"This ain't about her. Its about you and me." A troll skeleton threw Jericho a rusty pitchfork. "Sorry about this, Jack. It ain't nothin' personal. Its just, I have a future in Halloween and we can't share it."

Jack jumped before Jericho could jab him. "What are you doing?" He shouted.

"Takin' what's mine!"

The crowd went crazy as Jericho pierced Jack in the ribcage and tossed him through the air like a hay bale.

Jack gasped for breath as he landed on his back. Images of crooked, fiendish smiles swirled around him, laughing hysterically. He forced himself to roll over and regain his bearings.

Jericho attacked again. Jack jumped, using the prongs of the pitchfork a springboard to jump over Jericho's head. Everyone gasped, impressed as Jack landed right on his feet. "This is madness, Jericho! Stand down before you hurt someone!"

Jericho charged, screaming violently. Jack twisted sideways and grabbed onto the handle, jabbing Jericho in the side with it. He hated to strike at the young scarecrow, but he was given no other choice.

Not far away on Dark Lagoon lake, Death (or in this case 'the Ferryman') pulled a small raft along the murky water. He was accompanied by a recently deceased man, huddled in the fetal position by his feet. Death pitied the poor, frightened mortal. "Don't be afraid." Death said softly. "This may not be heaven, but Halloween is a nice realm. Very quiet and..." He looked up, spotting flames and a huge cloud of smoke above the withering trees.

Death rowed faster. "I'm sorry about this, Mr. Kensing." He apologized. "But we'll have to pull ashore. I have something to take care of before I drop you off."

Jericho cracked Jack in the temple. He fell to the ground, limp. Jack cursed himself inwardly. He hated to think of how disappointed War would be.

He cried out, winded as Noogie kicked him in the side. Jericho pushed him away. "No! I gotta beat 'em alone!"

He pulled Jack to his feet and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground once again. Jack stared up at him through a blurry haze.

Jericho stood over him, aiming his pitchfork between Jack's eyes. "I'm real sorry about this." He whispered. "This ain't fer me, its fer the family. They're counting on me."

"For what? At least tell me that much."

"For the crown. If you can't have it, then I get it."

"If you spent one day in my shoes, you'd know being Pumpkin King is **not** worth murdering over!"

Jack clenched his eyes shut, expecting his skull to split into pieces. A moment passed. His skull remained in tact. Jericho was hesitating. A hundred gore thirsty ghouls were demanding Jack's demise and yet he hesitated.

Angela begged him not to do it, but Oogie covered her mouth. "What are you waiting for? Finnish him!"

Jericho let out a sob as he pulled back the fork, ready to strike. Thinking quickly, Jack pulled his legs to his chest and kicked Jericho in the stomach before he could stab him. Grunting, Jericho stumbled back right into the flaming stature.

Angela broke free, screeching in terror. Oogie pulled her back, tightening his grip.

Jack held back tears as he watched Jericho burst into flames. He ran to him and pulled him away from the fire. Jericho collapsed, unconscious, still burning.

"No you don't!" Jack cried as he stomped out the flames. "Don't do this! Don't go!"

The crowd watched in silence as embers, straw and dead leaves flew everywhere. Oogie growled in frustration. "I knew that dull-witted bumpkin couldn't finish the job." He tossed Angela into the arms of a goblin. "Restrain her." He ordered. "Noogie! Put down that Goddamn bass! Its time for plan 'B'!"

Oogie ripped Jack away from Jericho and shook him by his cloak. "Forget that stupid hic! Look around you, Skellington! This is a mutiny! See all these scumbags? They're _my_ nightmare minions! They want _you_ gone and a new town order in place and that's just what they're gonna get!"

Jack tore away from Oogie's grip. "You sick bastard! You set Jericho up for this, didn't you? I won't let you get away with this!"

Oogie smirked. "Jack, I'm a gamblin' man, but above all else, I'm a leader. I may not play fair, but I always win and I'm always in charge." He clapped his hands, motioning for the goblins to present Jack with Angela and for Noogie's shadow self to present Zero. Both were restrained, whimpering and squirming as their captors manhandled them.

"Let them go!" Jack ordered. "Right now, or I'll-"

"You ain't gonna do nothing-" Oogie corrected him. "But stand there like a good little prince while we crush you. Fight back and both your bitches are finished."

Angela looked to Jack as if to say 'Don't listen! Get Away!'. But he ignored her.

Jack let out a deep, sad sigh. He looked to his feet and gritted his teeth, waiting for the thrashing of his afterlife. Oogie and his mob closed in on him. They punched him, kicked him, and attempted to pull him apart. Oogie choke slammed him several times before passing him onto another ghoul.

Angela turned her head and sobbed. It was hard enough to watch Jericho die. She couldn't watch Jack go too. Listening to his grunts and snapping bones made her stomach turn.

A band of zombies threw Jack to Oogie's feet. Jack tried to pull to his knees, but Oogie stomped his face in the dirt, laughing triumphantly. "Had enough Jack? HA! You will in a minute-"

**"STOP!"**

The crowd turned around to find the source of the voice. They began to back away, cowering as Death charged at them astride his horse, scythe swinging.

"Shoo! Get away! Go home, all of you!" Death ordered. "I don't know what is you fools think you are doing, but this stops here!"

Oogie looked about frantically as half his mob made a run for it. "What are you doing? Swarm him!" He shouted to them. "He's just one skeleton! Come on, he's older than dirt!"

The ghouls, ghost, and goblins exchanged questionable glances. They decided to follow orders and attack Death, but one wave of his blade and a glimpse of his glowing red eye sockets scared them off. "I took you down once and believe me, I can do it again! Now release the skeleton!"

"Make us!" Noogie sneered, nearly twisting Zero's howling head off.

Death smirked. "That's your cue, dear!"

Jack shook his head in disbelief as Placebo burst through the forest with Pestilence on his back. She shot a row of ghouls with her arrows, clearing a path towards the Boogies. She looked down at Jack apologetically. "I know you didn't ask for help, but the old bastard told me you were in trouble."

Oogie chuckled. "Another girlfriend, bone man? Oh no! Is she going to pummel me for picking on her lover boy?"

"Not quite..." Pestilence clenched her eye sockets shut as she raised her hand at the Boogies.

"Oogie!" Noogie cried. "I-I can't move..."

"Big deal, you hypnotized my dimwitted brother. Not very impressive, babe, but nice try." Oogie tried to drag Jack to his feet by his hair, but he froze in mid reach. "What have you done?" He grunted.

Pestilence opened her eyes, revealing a bright blue glow. "What's the matter boogieman? You feel queasy?"

Oogie looked down at his stomach. His burlap body bulged sporadically. He couldn't see it, but he could hear the buzzing and squirming. Somehow Pestilence was making his insect innards swarm inside of him. Noogie cried out in pain. The same was happening to him. They rolled around on the ground, gagging and groaning.

Zero broke free and flew into Jack's arms. Relieved, he hugged Zero tightly, patting his head. Realizing the Boogies were incapacitated, Jack took the opportunity to crawl away and untie Angela. They watched, frozen stiff as Oogie and Noogie nearly burst apart at the seams.

Oogie heard a loud rip. He gasped in horror as his side busted open, releasing a small swarm of insects. "Enough! I give! I GIVE!"

Pestilence lowered her hand and the Boogie brothers returned to normal. They wheezed heavily, down on their knees. Death raised his scythe. Jack leered over them, scowling. "You two are through! Crawl back in your hole before I do something worse than what she did!"

Oogie glared at him with white-hot hatred. "This isn't over, Jack Skellington! You haven't seen the last of me! One day, Jack, I'll get you one day!"

With that, the Boogie brothers retreated to the casino. Death chased the other thugs off. Feeling lightheaded, Jack swayed on his feet. Pestilence caught him before he fell. "Are you alright?"

Jack held his head. "Yes, I'm...I'm not as bad as Jericho, but- Jericho!"

Angela was already huddled over him. She rested his head in his lap as she attempted to pull him back together. "What were you thinking?" She asked him, sobbing. "I'm sorry. I should have known you was in trouble. You could have told me, Jericho, you know you could've! Don' worry...I'll get you home and we'll sew you up and find you knew arms...you'll be as good as new, Jericho. Good as new..."

Jack approached them cautiously. "How bad is it?" He asked, looking over his lifeless, charred carcass.

Angela slapped him across the face. "You son of a bitch!" She shouted. "You killed 'em! Goddamn you, you killed 'em! You threw 'em in fire, trampled 'em and killed 'em!"

"He attacked me first!" Jack cried defensively. "I-I didn't mean to kick him that hard. I just wanted him off me. What was I to do? Let him impale me?"

"He was yer friend!"

"He tried to kill_ me_! He-he wanted to be pumpkin king, that's why he did it."

Angela shook her head. "What? No he didn't!"

"That's what he told me!"

"Bullshit, Jack! How would killing you make him pumpkin king?"

"I don't know! He knew though! He and Oogie, they planned all this! You knew about this too, didn't you? You and Jericho were close, you must of!"

Again, she slapped him across the face. Pestilence pulled her away from him before she could ball up a fist. Angela struggled to break free and go after him. Instead, she abandoned her rage for heavy sobs and buried her face in Pestilence's chest. "Jericho would never hurt anybody! Them Boogie's- t-they forced him to do it! I know they did! Oh God, Jericho..."

Pestilence looked to Death, helpless. "I can't believe I road two thousand miles for this...Make her stop, old man!"

Death motioned for silence. "Let her grieve, dear. That's what survivors do."

Pestilence sighed and hugged Angela close. She couldn't quite understand why this imp was crying over a brother, but she saw no harm in comforting her.

Jack couldn't look at Jericho anymore. He covered his battered face with his hat and limped away. Unable to hold in tears any longer, he collapsed to his knees and started sobbing as well.

Death ran to his side and lead him away. "Jack, what happened? How did you get into this mess?"

"I'm so stupid, Death..." Jack said in between sobs. "I-I just walked right into their trap! Everything was in my face, screaming danger and I didn't see it! How? How can I be so damn stupid, HOW?"

Death whipped the ash smears and tears from Jack's face. "Everyone makes mistakes, son."

"Not everyone's mistakes cost people their lives!" Jack took a deep breath. It helped him stop sobbing, but he couldn't sniff back his tears fast enough. "Can't you help him? Please, Death, revive him! Do something!"

Death sighed. "I can't. Technically, Jericho is undead. My powers won't work on him. I'm sorry..."

Jack's legs numbed and buckled under his weight. Death held him up, allowing him to cry on hi shoulder. Zero hovered close for support. He was grateful Death didn't say 'I told you so' although he knew he deserved to hear it.

Too busy mourning, Jack nor the others noticed the indent in the dirt where Jericho's body laid moments ago. In the woods, Jericho ran through darkness as fast as his injured legs could carry him. His entire body ached in pain, but he ignored it, focusing only on getting away.

He had failed. After months of plotting and weeks preparing, he had failed. 'I can't go home' He told himself. 'Pa'll be too disappointed in me. My wounds'll worry ma and Angela...'

Jericho quickened his pace. He had no idea where he was going or where the forest path would lead him. All he knew was his memory would have to be erased from Halloween town to make room for the true Pumpkin King.

a/n: This is not the end. One more chapter to go. Thanks for reading guys, rock on.

P.S: Does anyone have any suggestions for the song I should use in the epilouge? Normally, I use a metal song that sums up the story or expresses the moral of my fics, but this time, I'm stumped.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Farewell to Kings

Disclaimer: Yes, I stole that title from a Rush album. I doubt anyone will notice. Oh yeah, the Nightmare Before Christmas isn't mine either.

Morning came, then nightfall and then morning again. Jericho only stopped to pop a limb back in place or to restuff his body with foliage. He tipped his hat to block the morning sunshine from his eyes. "I'm lost..." He admitted to himself aloud. "Lost the trail hours ago-" He trailed off, spotting a circle of peculiar looking trees in the distance. He limped over to the tree with a jack-o-lantern door carved in the bark.

"I don't know where you lead to, but if it's to anywhere in Halloween, I can't open you." He turned away, heartbroken.

Another tree caught his eye. It's door had been carved in the shape of a turkey. He scratched under his hat, confused. "Well, don' that beat all? Poultry. Hu, I wonder..."

Jericho opened the door and peeked inside. He found nothing but a hollowed out tree. He turned away, ready to forget the door and start running again when a gust of wind pulled him back. He screamed, clinging to the tree as the feather-filled wind sucked him inward. Eventually, his grip weakened and Jericho was swallowed whole by the entrance. He fell through a portal, hurdling towards a brand new world and towards a brand new future.

Meanwhile:

The next several months, Jack spent in solitude. He left his apartment only to work. He spoke to no one, not Velika, not Angela, not even Death.

Word spread through the town that an image of Zephaniah had been burned in Boogie's territory, and several young ghouls had been killed during the burning. No one made much of an effort to investigate though. Tragedies that occur in Boogie territory never concern the citizens of Halloween. These occurrences tend kill off the rogue ghouls nobody wants around anyways. It was a sad, unjust fact of existence in the holiday world.

Angela reported Jericho missing to Town Hall against her father's wishes. Her case was dismissed once they heard he was involved with the Boogies. She searched for him day and night for several months before giving up. His body was never found.

Jack was overwhelmed with guilt. Angela refused to speak to him. She blamed herself more so than she blamed Jack for Jericho, but the incident left her traumatized. She lived the life of a hermit for many years afterward.

Jack allowed her to drift away from him. Their relationship was through, Angela made that clear. Often he regretted their fallout. He had grown so attached to her, maybe even fell in love, but she proved to be another he simply wasn't meant to be with.

He couldn't blame her for being angry. He blamed himself. His gut reaction saved his neck, but was another less drastic retaliation possible? Jack wished he had thought of one. He truly considered Jericho a friend. He looked up to him in a way. He was a decent at scaring, he was fun loving, patient and hard working. He still couldn't believe Jericho attacked him. Something or someone conned him to do it, Jack knew for sure. What exactly made the scarecrows snap, he was never quite sure. It drove him to tears every time he thought about it.

Rather than mope, Jack dedicated all free time and energy into Halloween. Zephaniah sunk all his time and effort into Skellington Manor, which meant if Halloween was to be frightening that year, it was up to Jack to make it happen. After all, his inauguration was drawing near.

Every night, he drew plans for the one thing he had always dreamed of performing the day he became king- a finale. Jack envisioned it clearly for the first time. He would parade through the Streets of Halloween, frightening the frightful. With a dedication to the Four Horsemen in mind, Jack would enter on horseback. He would wait patiently then leap out from the shadows as a flaming mass of terror when the timing was just right. He would need a disguise too. Surely the citizens would recognize him if he hadn't one.

Zero stared as Jack paced the apartment floor, struggling to come up with a costume to wear. One day while filing data at the lab, Jack spotted the pumpkin patch through the window and it occurred to him. He would wear a scarecrow costume. It was simple, eerie looking and best of all, flammable.

Jack slammed his fist in his palm. "Eureka!" He cried, voice echoing off the corroded steel walls. It was settled, he would be a scarecrow. He would do it memory of Jericho. He owed it to him. Plots of murder aside, he had been a good friend. Jack regretted not being able to scare beside him that Halloween an every Halloween after...

It took him months to sketch out maps, prop designs and the costume, but his first official plans were finalized by September. October arrived. Late that month, the day before the thirty-first, Jack checked out of Hemlock homestead. He paid Velika everything he owed her before saying his goodbyes. She hugged him before he left, crying silently as he walked out the door. Jack missed her and his little slum apartment. It felt good to know he would be missed as well.

Jack walked through the busy streets of Guillotine Square. He stared in awe as a brand new mansion stood in place of the giant castle that was once his childhood home. Jack chuckled to himself, tickled by the manor's lopsided framework. He could tell Zephaniah was hammered out of his skull through all the stages of its construction. He walked up the steps, all hundred of them. Jack smiled as he tugged on the spider doorbell and heard its novelty screech. "That will do wonders for your morning headaches, won't it, dad?"

The door cracked open. A skeletal maid poked her head out. "May I help you? She asked.

"I'm looking for Zephaniah" Jack replied. "I know he must be busy, but-"

"Are you John Skellington?"

"Its Jack actually, I'm-"

"Come with me." The maid pulled him inside. She took Zero to the kitchen and then ordered a team of servants to escort him upstairs.

They gave him a hot bath, a haircut and took his measurements. They shoved him in one of the guest bedrooms and told him to wait. Shortly afterwards two maids returned with a suit. Although he insisted they shouldn't, the maids helped him dress.

After they left, Jack inspected himself in front of the mirror. He straightened his tie, admiring the outfits black and white pinstriped material. Jack posed several ways. Sometimes he liked his reflection and other times he felt ashamed of his scrawny frame.

"Something's missing..." Jack studied his reflection intensely. Suddenly, it hit him. He reached for his old pants and pulled his mother's brooch from the pocket. He fastened it to his tie. He looked back into the mirror, smiling proudly. Finally, the bat grew wings.

"There you are!"

Jack spun around. In the doorway, Zephaniah stood gazing at his son proudly. "I was afraid you wouldn't show."

Jack felt as if he had shrunk. "I had to come back. Its my duty."

"Aye..." Zephaniah walked over and put his hands on Jack's shoulder. "You look much better then when you first walked in. My, you've grown tall. Oh, you're trying on the suit. Tell me, does it fit well? Do you like it?"

"It fits fine. I-I like it very much actually."

Zephaniah smiled. "I knew you would. What of the manor?"

"Perfectly drab" Jack commended him begrudgingly. "It's your best work yet."

"Enjoy it. Its all yours come tomorrow night." Zephaniah looked away, sighing. "Its been so long. It disturbs me how much you've changed. You look exactly how I pictured you would. I've missed you terribly, John...I don't suppose you've missed me?"

"No" Jack answered, frowning. "To be honest, I haven't."

Zephaniah took a seat on the bed, disappointed. "I'm not surprised. Although, I had hoped-"

"Hoped what? That I would come to my senses, return home and let you carry on your drunken ways with no objections? I'm not apologizing for anything, dad! I did what I had to do."

Zephaniah chuckled. "As long as you feel you're ready to scare tomorrow."

Jack huffed, insulted. "I've been ready." He informed him confidently. "I was in the middle of preparing myself before you walked in. Look, I appreciate the clothes, the servants and the manor, but it doesn't make up for how you treated mom and me."

"I give you all these things, not for my benefit, but for yours." Zephaniah hunched forward and looked to lap. "I find it amusing how you look down on me so. Would it be fair to say you took off to avoid your problems just as I drink to avoid mine?"

"No, it wouldn't!" Jack snapped, balling his fist at his side. "How dare you- you..." He bit his tongue, holding back a wave of anger. "I only came back to claim my title, you know. What makes you think I want to even look at you much less speak to you?"

"Because you are nervous and desperate for advice, just as I was before my inauguration."

Jack froze. He thought he had maintained a calm composure so far. "I'm not nervous. I have a handle on this."

"Dear boy, you're trembling."

Jack looked down at himself. His bones were shaking in his suit. He started pacing, running his boney fingers through his hair. All the anxiety he fought so hard to conceal was beginning to pour out of him. He couldn't hide it. He was breaking down. "What am I going to do? The whole town is counting on me! I trained so hard, but what if I'm still not good enough? What about next year and the year after that? This isn't a filing cabinet I have to organize, it's the entire holiday!"

Zephaniah latched onto his shoulders, forcing him to halt. "Ah, I see you've changed your tone." He said with a smirk.

Hurt and aggravated, Jack shoved Zephaniah aside, but he grabbed him again and looked him in the eye sockets.

"Don't fret, John. You'll do a wonderful job. I never doubted that for a moment."

Jack shook his head. "I thought I would, but now I'm not so sure. I have very poor judgment sometimes."

"How do you mean?"

"I-I...I've made a lot of poor decisions." He confessed. "I could get away with it before, but when I'm king one mistake on my behalf could turn Halloween to rubble."

"John, you're young. One should only expect to make mistakes in his youth. Do not worry so. You're judgment will improve with time."

Jack prayed the old ghoul was right. "Do you think I'll be scary enough? Will humans fear me like they did you?"

"Surely you strive to outscare me." He laughed. "It will not be difficult, I assure you. In my prime, I struck terror into the bravest of souls. Now, I'm old and tired of the screaming. Give it your all tomorrow. It will not spite me in the least."

Jack's breathing became heavy and sporadic. "You think I want to throw a horrifying fright fest to spite you?" Jack scowled, gritting his teeth. "You self-centered, old prick! You're half the reason why I'm spiraling! You haven't the slightest idea how much I have to fix around here, do you? Corruption, depression, crime, plummeting Nightmare Ranks, you name it! My God, dad, Halloween is breaking down all around us because of _your_ incompetence and you think I want to restore its formal glory to _spite you_? You...stupid, pigheaded old-" Jack turned and punched a crack in the wall, unable to express his disgust in words.

'Even sober, I manage to say the wrong thing.' Zephaniah thought before breathing a heavy sigh. "Think of how revered you will be when you clean up my mess."

Jack forced a laugh. "Thank you, dad, thank you very much! I can't believe I thought for a moment you had something encouraging or useful to say to me."

"If that's how you feel, then I will say no more." Zephaniah leaned against the windowsill, looking down at the streets below. "I know I was not the greatest of kings. Even in my prime, I paled in comparison to the ghoul you've become. I am a very weak person. Anyone whose known me for two seconds can see that. I know in many ways, I've disappointed you and for that, I'm truly sorry. But take comfort in that you're stronger than me, John. You've always been stronger than me."

Zephaniah walked towards the door with his head low and his gnarled hands clasped behind his back. He looked back for a moment and said. "I leave this manner knowing Halloween is in good hands. If you need me, I'll be taking care of some last minute details at Town Hall. What am I saying? You will not need me. Farewell, John." With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Jack stood in the middle of the guestroom, petrified. That was it. Now Jack was truly on his own. He stormed out of the room, dashing through the hallways and up the stairs. Every room looked as if it was built according to Jack's taste. He reached the highest tower. He looked about, marveling in its beauty.

Zephaniah built him a study. The walls were lined with shelves stuffed to the brim with books, some old, some new. Jack sat at the ebony desk and buried his head in his hands. Zero hovered inside and immediately nestled himself in the doggie bed placed by the window. Jack began to cry. Zephaniah designed the entire mansion with him in mind. He could hardly believe the old skeleton knew enough about him to pull it off, but somehow he did.

Suddenly he found himself wishing for his father's return as if he had reverted back to infancy. Why, he wasn't sure. Since when was Zephaniah's presence comforting? Still, a father's guidance was greatly needed. They missed the opportunity to patch things up, if there ever was one to begin with, so Jack gave up hope.

He sniffed back his tears when he heard footsteps climbing up the spiral staircase. The maids approached him cautiously.

"Mr. Skellington" An emaciated corpse addressed him timidly. "There is someone hear to see you. Should we let him in?"

"Go ahead" Jack replied shortly. "Afterwards, I want all of you to get out."

"But, sir-"

"Just go!" Jack ordered. "Get out! Don't bother showing up again!"

The maids exchanged glances then left as instructed. Another set of footsteps came tapping up the stairs. A stout man with a long top hat and huge, over exaggerated smile entered. Jack stared at the man, intrigued by his second, ghostly pale face.

"Jack Skellington" He greeted him warmly. "How are you today?"

"I've been better" He admitted. "Could you please state your business quickly? I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Of course you do. That's why I'm here. You have so much to take care of. So many situations to handle, so many nice people to accommodate-"

"You don't know the half of it."

"Oh, but I do. I used to be a political figure before I died- a very popular, successful political figure." The stout man leaned against the desk, fidgeting with his collar. "You need help, my boy, someone to lighten your load around here before you're buried."

The man had peeked Jack's interest. "How would you help me?"

"I'm sure you don't want to jump to any radical decisions your first year as King, but hear me out. You're a bright lad, right? Of course you are. You know democracy is no mere trend in the living world. People love the system. Monarchies have almost been completely done away with. People want a say in how their community is governed. Suppose you offered your subjects a say in the system? You could with electoral officials to address their concerns to?"

"My officials would oversee Halloween's progress and I would oversee my officials."

"Exactly! What do you say, Jack? Want to invest in a campaign? You would have the final say over everything of course."

Jack nodded. "Of course. I'll think it over. Perhaps we could go over the details another time?"

"Certainly, you give me holler whenever you're ready." The stout man handed Jack a card before shaking his hand. "Good luck, Jack."

The man showed himself out. Jack looked over the card. In bold, swirling letters it read 'Vote Mayor'. Jack tossed it aside.

"What nerve" He spat, pacing around the study. "I'm not even officially Pumpkin King and people are on my back with political nonsense! I don't have time for this. I need to make arrangements for my finale and practice my screeching and..." Jack looked at the clock in horror. Less then sixteen hours to go...

Zephaniah leaned against the cemetery entrance, smoking his last cigar. He looked up at Skellington Manor, chuckling as Jack's silhouette scurried past the windows. He had been there many times- running about frantically in a panic over what could go wrong Halloween night and how in God's name it could be prevented. Those days for him were finally through. He meant what he said. Giving up the crown to Jack was an honor. Giving up his son, that was agonizing, almost impossible.

He reached into his doublet and pulled out a canteen filled with rum. He grimaced at the sight of it. To think he had surrendered the better half of his reign to the foul substance. It would have been much less painful to blame the alcohol for his losses, but Zephaniah decided to keep his last shred of manhood. "You could have tried harder, Zeph old boy" He admitted aloud. He took a swig then dumped the rest on the ground. "Better too late then never, I suppose..."

He turned and passed through the gate without taking one last look at the town. Halloween had no use for him now. The graves beckoned him forth, offering dignity and peace...


	27. Chapter 27

Epilogue

Disclaimer: Nightmare Before Christmas not mine, you know the drill.

a/n: Wow, I can't believe I'm finally finished. This has been my most successful fic thus far (and not once did I use the word 'fuck'). Special thanks goes to my oldest supporters, BarrelsNo.1Fan, Dusk-Kitsune88, IamAreYou, and last but not least Alexa the Nerd (would you like a deathburger?). I would also like to thank Jombra, Foxpery, Petrea Izefia Matkeoo, Toki1, Glasscase of Emotions, Musically, Whittywaerwolf (I bow in homage to your fic writing skills), NightmareAlive, The Living Egnima, Missing Fairy, Chaora01, Jacksfangurl, Kali Seito, and Kyothe the Arcane for all the wonderful reviews. (I'm terribly sorry if I misspelled any of your names)

The fact that you all read this entire thing without feeling a compulsion to slam your head against your keyboard until all your brain matter gushed out of an open wound is pretty freaking amazing. You rock guys, all of you. Okay, sorry for the fluffy lovefest. Please read on

_Over three lifetimes later..._

In the graveyard a much older, but happier Jack stood by Spiral Hill, chiseling a brand new tombstone for the ever-growing cemetery. His wife of over twenty years, Sally, waved to him from the front steps of their house.

Jack waved back, smiling. Sally's face always made him smile. She was the only woman in a long list of failed relationships that had pulled him away from danger and despair instead of pushing him towards it.

Many criticized him for his early retirement, but Jack believed he was better off resigning with a relatively spotless record. He interpreted his Christmas fiasco as a sign that it was best to pass on the torch.

"Dad!"

Jack turned around to find his eldest son struggling to catch his breath. "Edgar, did you run here?"

"All the way from Town Hall" He replied, panting. He held up a clipboard, ready to write. "Hate to bug you, but I need the progress report, like, right now this second."

"The ditch digging positions have been filled as of this morning. I hired five new fellows to replace the ones I fired last week. They're quick. Twelve fresh graves, six feet deep, not an inch out of alignment. I'm finishing up the last tombstone now." Jack informed him, pleased. "There hasn't been any new reports of vandalism, although I'm still keeping a close watch on the eastern boarder. All gates have been repaired, all mausoleums unlocked. Everything is in top shape for the big night."

Edgar scribbled down the information frantically. "Sweet" He replied. "My boney ass is on the line big time this year. The swamp folk are worried their efforts will be mistaken for Nessie sightings when we take the frightful to Scotland this year and-"

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Relax, Edgar. You'll have everything under control. Why don't you go inside and take a quick break?"

Edgar shrugged. "Can't. No time. I'm expected at-" He trailed off when the sound of a heavy guitar riff caught is attention. "Is that Gregor?" He asked, wearing a mischievous skeleton grin. "I'll be right back..."

"Edgar, leave your brother-" Jack sighed. What's the use? Edgar made it his sworn duty to taunt his baby brother at least once a day.

Jack leaned against an ankh, waiting for the inevitable sound of his boys' bickering. No scare landed or trophy won was as rewarding as raising Edgar and Gregor. Gregor, although physically a smaller, male replica of Sally was nearly identical to Jack personality wise. Physically, Edgar resembled Jack, however, their personalities conflicted sharply. He was by far Jack's most difficult child. He made friends with the worst crowds, he ignored every rule Jack ever set, he cursed, broke curfew, insisted on blaring his metal music every waking moment of his afterlife, and never developed an attention span greater than that of a runny cheese wheel.

Almost every aspect of Edgar's personality bothered Jack. His tacky red and black suit, ripped jeans and band shirt collection, his long 'head banger's' hair, his slang, his taste in music- all these things would sometimes drive Jack to wits end. Still, Edgar was slowly proving himself one hell of a Pumpkin King. Jack admired his unique approach to scaring and his efforts to create a unique style.

"Stop hitting yourself!" Edgar cried, slapping Gregor across the back of the head with his own arm. "Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"

"OW! DAD- OW!" Gregor shouted desperately. "MAKE HIM- OW- STOP! I'M TRYING TO- OW- PRACTICE- OW!"

"Edgar...! Knock it off!"

Edgar sighed as he handed Gregor the limb. "Fine...I have work to do anyways. Rock on, bro."

Gregor flipped him off. "Have you practiced singing those lyrics I sent you?"

"After Halloween, I promise."

Gregor rolled his eyes. "Sure, okay..." He grumbled, sewing himself back together before grabbing his guitar.

Jack continued chiseling after Edgar left. Maybe it was Edgar's mentioning of Scotland or looking at the cracked hunk of stone, but something triggered the memory of his visit to the Leap Castle...

Eight years ago, after Edgar's inauguration, Jack decided to take Sally on a haunting trip around the world as a second (or rather late by seventeen years) honeymoon. One night, during their visit to Scotland, they passed the Leap Castle. Sally stopped to admire the old structure, but Jack walked right past it.

"Doesn't your father live here?" She asked.

Jack twitched irritably. "As far as I know, he still does."

"Since we're here, why don't we pay him a visit?"

Jack frowned. "Why would we do that?"

"Come on, Jack. When was the last time you saw him?"

Jack struggled to recall the exact date. "I don't remember."

"Well, its been too long then."

"But Sally, I can't stand him! You know that" He groaned.

"But I've never met him. I'd really like to."

"No you wouldn't." Jack insisted.

"Please...?" Sally tugged on his sleeve, refusing to loosen her grip.

After an hours worth of bickering and listing excuses, Jack finally caved in. They snuck in through a window. They passed several ghost through the hallways, but paid them no attention. Eventually Sally bumped into a small dwarf sized ghoul with white skin and rotting black eyes. Elemental as the others called it escorted them to the throne room.

Barely enough candlelight illuminated the room to see. Sally could barely make out the outline of a skinny figure asleep on a dusty throne. She placed her hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp. "Is that him, Jack?"

He nodded yes in response.

"He looks so...so-"

"Ancient? He's over four hundred years old, dear- and probably passed out drunk." He added under his breath.

Sally elbowed him in the ribs. "Be civil" She scolded him. "Go over there and wake him up."

"Me? Why _me_?"

"He's your father" She reminded him before pushing him towards the throne. "And I'm too nervous."

Jack sighed. This was one of the very few times Sally's shy nature bothered him. With a hesitant, shaky hand, Jack shook Zephaniah and whispered "Dad...its me, wake up."

He jumped back, startled as the old skeleton stirred. "Wha-? One moment, please, I can't see a blasted thing..." Zephaniah felt the arms of his chair and his lap until he found his small, oval framed glasses. After gently placing them on his face the details of the room became clear to him. He smiled ecstatically when Jack's image came into view.

"John? My God, is it really you?" He stood and trapped Jack in a big bear hug.

"Yes...its me..." Jack answered, ribs collapsing from the pressure.

"You look so different! Your hair! What happened to your hair?" He cried, brushing his fingers against Jack's bare scalp. "You look thicker too. I trust you're eating well then?" He chuckled. "I do believe I have more teeth left in my head then you do. I told you to cut back on the sweets, John."

Sally knew Jack would hate her for it, but couldn't help but laugh.

"Dad, please! Put me down!" Jack begged.

Zephaniah complied. He noticed Sally and immediately reached out to kiss her hand. "You must be Sally! It's an honor."

She blushed mentally. "Its an honor to meet you too, Mr. Skellington."

"Please, call me Zeph. No, I take that back! Call me dad if you like. I've always dreamed of having a daughter. You're perfect for John. Bones alone were never enough to satisfy him. Even when he was a boy he liked the girls with plenty of meat on him."

Jack's jaw dropped in disbelief. How did the old man manage to embarrassed him three times in less than five minutes? He shoved Zephaniah back, scowling. "I'd appreciate it if you showed a little respect."

"Oh, John, I meant her no harm. I think she's lovely. I may be old, but I'm not old fashioned. From what I understand, people are more comfortable with these things now a days. At least the tourist seem to be. Have you seen some of the clothing people run around in? I've never seen so much skin in all my days. Sometimes I cannot complain, but other times-" He shuddered at the thought. "I haven't the energy to spook humans anymore. I leave that to the other ghost and ghouls around here. Have you met Elemental yet? I think he's an imp of some kind, but I'm not quite sure-"

"We're on vacation" Sally interrupted before Zephaniah lost himself in an Edgar-like babble. "We thought it would be nice to drop in for a visit while we passed the castle."

Zephaniah nodded. "It's a shame you resigned so early into your reign, John. You probably have at least two-hundred good years left in you."

"How did you know about that?"

The old skeleton smiled. "Oh, I read about it. Look..." He reached under the throne and pulled out a huge leather scrapbook. Sally flipped through the articles with buzzing interest. They all were about Jack in one way or another. Some were ghost sightings written by human victims he had terrorized many a Halloween night. Others were interviews written in Halloween town.

"Look Jack" She pointed to a blurry photo. "That's you in Kentucky! And there's you at the Eiffel Tower!"

Zephaniah flipped to the very back of the book. "This one is of Edgar" He announced. "It was taken just last Halloween. I was thrilled when I discovered I'm a grandfather. Tell me. What is he like?"

"Edgar is very, very interesting, I'll say that much." Sally answered with a smirk. Zephaniah listened intently as she continued to describe him.

Jack stood silently, unable to react. All the accomplishments he made during his reign had been pilled together in a thirty-pound book. Every single poor soul running around without skin because he scared them out of it documented and listed in chronological order. He couldn't tell if he should he feel flattered, grateful or just creeped out.

"He never ceased to amaze me year after year." Zephaniah said with pride. "I met a group of young skeletons from Holland who worship John as a god."

"It's Jack, dad, _Jack_. I didn't break my back for over a hundred years for you to keep calling me John!"

Zephaniah glared up at him. "Sally, my dear, would you excuse us a moment? John and I have much to catch up on."

"Sure" Sally agreed, taking a step back towards the corner. "Take your time."

Jack mentally kicked himself as Zephaniah pulled him aside. "Dad...that came out all wrong. I-I'm glad you kept track all these years-"

"You didn't want to come here at all did you?"

Jack sighed as he looked to his feet. "No. No I didn't"

"Then why are you here?"

"Sally twisted my arm." He admitted. "There were others reasons too. I wonder about you a lot, dad."

"You would like to know if I've been drinking. Well, I haven't. Nary a drop has slipped down my throat for fifty years. I tried to quit countless times before that, but it was hell, pure hell. But I'm finally clean now. Cigars too. I know how much you hated the smell of them."

Jack rested his head in his palm. "What do you want, dad, a trophy?" He said with a hint of a sob in his voice. "That's all well and good that you've quit, but a century or two sooner would have been great, don't you think? You dropped off the face of the universe. I had no idea where you ran off to for years!"

"It felt terrible, worrying, didn't it?"

Jack scowled at him bitterly. "There were times when I could have really used your help and you weren't around."

Zephaniah's ribcage rattled as he released a heavy sigh. "John, the day of your inauguration, I realized that as a father I did much more harm to you than good. I left Halloween so you could move on to bigger and better things. I truly believed you would lead a richer afterlife in my absence. I was right, was I not?"

Jack paused to think. As a young ghoul, he hated Zephaniah with all his being. This withered skeleton before him now, he's a completely different person. He couldn't justly argue. Jack _had_ led a good afterlife. He was successful, revered, respected. There were bumpy patches during his reign where boredom had set in, but it led to an interesting adventure and his darling Sally. He had fame and fortune. He had the love of a wonderful family and managed to raise a great son while avoiding most of the mistakes Zephaniah made with him...

"I'm very happy with my afterlife." He agreed. "But I would have been happier if you had been a part of it."

The end...sort of...

_"Someone told me long ago_

_There's a calm before the storm_

_I know!_

_Its been comin' for sometime_

_When its over so they say_

_It'll rain a sunny day_

_I know!_

_Shinin' down like water_

_I wanna know: have you ever seen rain?_

_I wanna know: have you ever seen rain_

_Comin' down on a sunny day?_

_Yesterday and days before_

_Sun is cold and rain is hot,_

_I know!_

_Been that way for all my time._

_Till forever on it goes_

_Through the circle fast and slow_

_I know_

_I can't stop I wonder!_

_I wanna know: have you ever seen rain?_

_I wanna know: have you ever seen rain_

_Comin' down on a sunny day?"_

Damn, longest epilogue I ever wrote. Credence Clearwater Revival, or for us lazy folks, CCR everybody. I dug deep into my CD collection and remembered how much I loved this song, so I went with this one. Thanks for trying guys. This is an old song, more honkytonk than any other genre, but it was well worth the time typing.

For anyone who has experienced the pain of a loss. For anyone who has suffered with their family or whose family made them suffer. For anyone who was stripped of what held meaning to them. For anyone who has been made to feel ugly, inferior or unwanted. For anyone who was bullied, but no one acknowledged it much less did anything to help you...

To all of whom this dedication applies, read these words and hopefully take them to heart. Be strong. Turn your misfortunes into prosperity. Don't let your past destroy your future. Show kindness although few will show kindness to you. Forgive even though you will rarely be forgiven. Most importantly, don't quit, don't despair and **don't** cry to me until you've made a genuine effort to do what's listed above, but still life knocked you down anyways.

Again, thank you all for your reviews. Your input is greatly appreciated. Later everyone. As always, live fast, rock hard!


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